


In the Cards

by HachimansKitsune



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6857353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachimansKitsune/pseuds/HachimansKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Devil is in the details...or so they say. Sometimes it takes a little luck, love and mortal magic to sort out the love life of a mixed up Fae. And other times, it just takes a pushy brother with a knack for innuendo and the ability to get people tell him their darkest desires. Prepare for lewd comments, UST and silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Devil is in the Details

When Sarah dreamed of living in a land of fantasy and make-believe, LA wasn’t quite what she had in mind.

But life isn’t fair and sometimes things don’t work out the way you expect. From the time she was young she always planned to follow in her mother’s footsteps, but it took a snarky Fae and his maniac Labyrinth to open her eyes to the fact that she didn’t _really_ want to do that. She just thought that is what everyone else wanted her to do. What _she_ really wanted to do was go into science – theoretical physics to be exact.

She never really questioned where the sudden interest in something so far removed from acting and fairy tales came from, although if pressed she would attribute it to the world-bending improbability of the Goblin King’s Labyrinth and castle.

“And really…his hair is improbable based on the laws of physics too,” she muttered to herself as she leaned in over her bathroom sink. Opening her mouth slightly, she added another coat of deep purple lipstick to her nearly black lips.

Her world was a world of contradictions.

Her days were spent holed up in a lab at CalTech talking to herself as she wrestled with theories of the universe. She loved the lab. Formulas. Theories. Books. Numbers. These were things she could rely upon. Numbers were stationary, they didn’t change on you or shift on the page. For her, physics was the point at which her love of science and need for the reassuring comfort of numbers intersected. True, there were times that she wondered whether physics could explain Jareth’s ‘Escher-esque’ room, of the way he seemed to appear out of nowhere, but those questions remained unanswered. She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t about to mention them to anyone in her lab, and the one time she had suggested returning to the Labyrinth to conduct a brief ‘experiment’, Hoggle had thrown an absolute fit and Sir Didymus was so upset by the prospect he took to his bed for the next week out of worry.

And while her days were spent surrounded by the comforting stability of numbers, her nights were the opposite. By night she ran a pagan shop on Hollywood Boulevard – a shop she owned, free and clear, thanks to a great night at poker against an old fortune-teller who wanted out of the business. While Sarah adored science for its immutable laws, she loved magic for the same reason. There was an order to it that fascinated her. At times she felt a bit of guilt for profiting from the gullibility of the tourists that flocked to the boulevard, after all, it was nicknamed ‘The Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ for a reason. In a way, she had become just another cog in the fantasy machine that was Hollywood.

Glancing at her watch, Sarah frowned, before giving her deep purple-black bob a quick brush. Dropping her brush in the basket by the sink she threw open the bathroom door.

“Aine, if you want a ride to work get your rear in gear! I promised Sean I’d be at the shop early so he could make it to an audition!” As she walked into her room, Sarah grabbed the black leather jacket from the hook on the back door, and flopped on the foot of her bed, displacing a sleek black cat in the process. The cat hissed it’s displeasure and clawed lightly at the beat up leather jacket, reminding her just who was in charge – in his mind at least. “Sorry Schrodinger,” she muttered, tying the bright purple laces of Docs and jumping up again. With the cat glaring balefully at her, she grabbed her bag. “I’m out the door in less than a minute. Anyone who wants a ride better be buckled up and ready to roll!”

Flinging her bag over her shoulder, Sarah scattered a few dried sardines along the windowsill for Schrodinger and pounded down the stairs of the small workers cottage in the valley.

Yes… life was strange. But as far as lives went, she was content enough with hers.

A shapely blonde was slipping into the passenger seat of a worn-in blue Beetle parked in the driveway of the ‘heritage listed’ cottage. Grinning, Sarah tossed her bag in the backseat and dropped into the driver’s seat. “Ready to roll?”

“You know it!” Aine laughed, flipping down the visor and dotting shimmering glitter gel along her cheek bones, as Sarah cranked the engine and sped out the driveway.

Hitting the gas as she turned onto the street, the little Beetle gave a hungry growl and skittered a bit on the slick pavement. Sarah had fifteen minutes to get to the shop, and it took 10 to drop of Aine, her roommate and best friend since they had first shared a dorm room at Tech.

“Do you have to put your glitter on in my car? Why can’t you put it on in the dressing room? That shit gets everywhere and I do mean _everywhere_.” Seeing the light turn yellow, Sarah double-pumped the clutch and hit the turbo, the little blue Beetle roaring down the street.

Aine squeaked and grabbed the handle on the ceiling, her body being thrown against the door as Sarah took the corner onto Wilshire at least 30 miles an hour too fast. “Holy crap, Sarah! Are you trying to get us kills or worse…arrested?!”

At that Sarah slowed down, knowing that getting Aine arrested would cause more headaches than either of them could cope with. For starters, she didn’t have fingerprints. One of the downsides to being a Fae living Aboveground.

Sarah knew within minutes of meeting Aine on move-in day at the university, that she was Fae. Ever since her Labyrinth adventure, she had been able to sense when someone or something was not a ‘natural’ part of this world. In their sophomore year, Sarah had flat out asked her about it while they were drinking apple wine and watching cheesy 80s romantic comedies. All Aine would say is that she was from a noble Underground family and was following family tradition by spending a decade or so in the Above. That was all the information she offered and that was all the information Sarah needed. Well, that and one more bit – she had made her swear an oath that she would never tell anyone in the Underground who she was living with. If Aine thought the request was odd, she never said anything about it, she merely gave the oath and sealed it with blood.

From that moment on, the two had been more-or-less inseparable.

Slowing down as they approached the tourist area, Sarah scanned the sidewalks, watching for a tourist to do something stupid. In the five years she had been at Cal Tech working toward her PhD, she’d lost count of the number of times one of them had stepped into the path of her car while taking a picture of some stupid ‘monument’. Three more turns and five stoplights, and Sarah was pulling up in front of an unassuming building – unassuming that is, until one actually read the name ‘Pussycat Club’. The only reason it was unassuming now was that they hadn’t yet turned on the garish pink neon signs yet. Aine leaned over and kissed Sarah’s cheek. “Have a good night, sweets. I’ll get Teddy to drive me home cuz I’ll be late. Spring Breaker’s are in town and that means good tips.”

“You stay safe. Do you still have the amulet I gave you?” Sarah asked, her violet eyes narrowing sternly at her best friend.

Aine laughed and pulled a small purple stone wrapped in a crystal from her cleavage. “The only time I take it off is when I’m the shower or on stage, Sarah. I’ll be fine. Come on, I have my own powers.”

“And they don’t work as well in the Above since your real power was bound. Promise, you’ll call me if you need me. Don’t take any chances.”

“Yes mum!” Turning Aine flounced into the strip-club as Sarah popped the clutch with a vicious stomp of her foot and raced down the street, sending tourists scrambling back onto the sidewalks.

She didn’t know who Aine’s family was, but she was reasonably confident that Underground nobility would frown upon their daughter being a stripper, although from what Aine said, they would be just as horrified to know she was doing a PhD in theoretical mathematics.

Hitting the gas and brake as she rounded the corner of Wallsey and Howe, Sarah gritted her teeth as the car drifted a bit too far, nearly clipping a BMW parked along the curb. Out of instinct she flinched, knowing her car should hit the other – but it didn’t. There was a slight green glow down the side of the car where the damage should have been, before Sarah righted the car, glancing about furitively to see if anyone noticed. When no one seemed to have seen anything, she breathed a sigh of relief.

That was one of the other nice things about LA, in many ways, magic could be openly used and people just assumed it was something to do with a movie.

Two minutes later she was pulling into the small parking area beside her shop. “Damnit, the sign is playing silly buggers again,” she grumbled, then peered around. Seeing that no one was looking her direction, she clapped her hands sharply and pointed at the sign. A sudden buzzing hum filled the air as the ancient neon began to glow with blue light proclaiming the pink stucco cottage with the purple door to be ‘Love Potion No. 9’.

Grabbing her bag she pushed open the front door of the shop, her arrival heralded by a gentle chiming of the windchimes near the door, and a loud squawking voice. “Hello…WITCH!”

“Hi Max,” she laughed, grabbing a saltine from the box by the door and holding it out to the Amazon Parrot perched next to the window.

“I’m not a witch…I’m your wife…and I’m not sure I want to be that anymore!” he squawked, dancing up and bobbing his head before snatching the cracker from her fingertips.

“Hmm…time to switch out your VCR tape again I think. How do you feel about ‘Legend’ for a change,” she asked, petting the brightly colored bird. Max held onto his cracker and nudged her hand, making strange burbling sounds.

“It’s not fair…” he squawked again, gently biting her.

Chucking she scratched him under the chin. “I wonder what your basis for comparison is.” Still smirking at the ridiculous dialogue of the bird, Sarah dumped her bag behind the counter and shouted toward the curtained area at the back of the shop, “Gee…I guess there is no one here. So I’ll just rob the shop blind!”

A thin black man wearing a pink shirt and tight leather pants wandered from behind the curtains. He paused with a hand on his hip as he glared at her, one eyebrow cocked and his lips pursed tightly. “Girl, do _not_ start with me. I am _not_ in the mood for your nonsense.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and slipped past him into the kitchen area. “So what’s the role this time, Sean?” she asked, flicking a switch to set the water kettle boiling and dropping a scoop of her special tea blend into her favourite mug.

“Some southern thing. The ad was a bit vague. They want a gay southern man. How did I do?” Sean replied, his natural Irish brogue slipping through.

“Hmm… if you were white I’d say it was stereotypical and you’d be lost in the shuffle of other actors, but I’ve never met a gay man that minced quite that way, so…I think you’ll at least get their attention,” she nodded, pouring boiling water into her mug. “If they don’t like that, then why not use your natural accent. It isn’t southern, but that would _definitely_ play against type.”

Sean sucked his lower lip a moment as he considered her suggestion and nodded. “Ohhh…I love the way you think _dahling_. Now I’m off. It’s been a slow day. I’ve unloaded the latest shipments of books and herbs.”

“Go… and good luck on the audition,” Sarah said, waving as he sashayed out the front door.

“Blast and damn, this walk will likely send me to casualty!” she heard him growling as he stumbled on his way down the walk.

As it was, she didn’t need to wish him good luck. She already knew he’d get the part – she’d seen it in the cards the week before.

Her goal in life wasn’t the only thing that changed upon her return from the Labyrinth. Within days she started having what her grandmother always called ‘the sight’. It wasn’t clear at first, just vague feelings. Over the next few years the feelings grew, becoming linked to images. By the time she started college, she started working with scrying pools and crystal readings, but found that her abilities were far improved through the use of tarot cards. She refused to read for herself or family, there some things she just didn’t want to know. But she had no qualms about doing the odd reading for friends.

Sarah settled down on the stool behind the counter and started through the mail, sorting bills from invoices and requests for information. Hearing the chimes sound, she glanced up and nodded silently to one of her regular customers, a slender hobgoblin with long dark hair, wearing a prim and proper tuxedo. She didn’t know what he did for a living or what brought him to the Above, but he came in every two weeks for ‘Raven’s tears’ and ‘bitterash’. As much as she was dying to know what he was doing with it, she felt it was rude to ask.

“I’ve got your standing order right here, Sir,” she said, picking up a small linen pouch of the herbs.

“Thank you, Sarah. You don’t know how hard it was being away from home so long. Finding someone that stocks my favourite pipe herbs was the only thing that kept me from returning Underground.”

“Oh! So that’s what you do with it. I’ve been wondering for ages,” she laughed, ringing up his purchase and closing the antique till.

The hobgoblins brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “You could have just asked, Sarah.”

Shrugging, Sarah handed him the bag. “Yeah, but you know how some Underground races are – if you ask the wrong question you might find yourself in debt to them somehow.”

“True,” he nodded, tucking the pouch inside his suit jacket. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

When she had taken over the business, one of the things Mrs. Varga neglected to tell her is that while there were a few regular, ordinary pagan customers, most of their their clientele came in three categories – tourists out for a bit of a lark while on holiday, Underground expatriates and various mythical beings. Had she known that, she would have thought twice about accepting the deed to the place. In the end though, it had turned out well. She had a steady stream of regular Underground customers and there was an unspoken rule – they didn’t ask Sarah about how she knew their expat status and she didn’t ask them why they were in the Above.

Over time, she discovered (accidentally) that several of them had fallen in love with humans and chosen to move Above. She knew that a tall, very dark Fae had been banished to the Above  for a decade for attempting a love spell on a princess. Of course, Sarah only knew about him because a few days after he first visited her, the ‘Men in Grey Flannel Suits’ showed up.

Extremely officious in their tone, they informed her that they were aware of her status as a ‘seer’ and having ‘Fairy Sight’, meaning that she could see fairy tale races and mythical beings. Frightened at first, she invited the two men into the kitchen for a cup of tea, only to find that Jim and Joe were really quite nice. They too had had a brush with the Underground as children and had Fairy Sight as well, which is how they ended up working for MGFs. Over mugs of tea and scones, they told her that the dark Fae was a lower noble who had tried to marry up, so he was under observation due to his banishment. She was given a list of items to keep an eye on, with instructions to contact them if he purchased any of them. As weird as the meeting felt when it started, it actually wasn’t that weird – at least not until Joe had asked her out.

 _‘Sooooo not my type,’_ she thought to herself as she tucked a non-descript grey envelope aside, knowing it would be the monthly ‘alert list’ from MGFs.

Grinning she picked up a small purple box. There was only one person who would send her a box like that – Toby. Sarah pulled the drawer open and used the scissors to slit open the packing tape. Her eyes misted a bit when she pulled out a small parcel wrapped in purple silk. Unwrapping the parcel, she lightly stroked the top of the present with her finger. “He remembered. Such a sweetie.”

While her parents didn’t approve of her ‘second job’, Toby had accepted the situation easily. In fact his only question had been whether she sold stuffed goblin dolls and whether she could get him one. Since he found out that she was collecting tarot cards, he had started cruising the Internet and eBay to find unique types for her. Picking up the cards, Sarah idly began to shuffle them. The longer she shuffled, the slower and more calm her mind became. Working with the cards was always such a soothing activity for her. Without thinking about it she began to lay out her favourite quick reading, then glanced down. Three cards lay before her in the simplest reading she knew.

But what she saw was definitely not simple.

The first card was the Devil, followed by the Magician and the Priestess.

Sarah shivered despite the warmth of the room. Something was coming, or rather…some _one_ was coming.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth pursed his lips and surveyed the garish colored building. When his brother had suggested they go out and have some fun for the evening, this was not what he had in mind. Women sure. Alcohol definitely. Debauchery of many types – one could only hope. “Seriously? Witchcraft? I thought they were your thing?”

The dark-haired driver laughed. “Sadly no. Most witches these days don’t believe in me. Something Dear Old Dad said must have put them off me. Or was it the nonsense that happened in Salem. That was a real nightmare for me, I tell you!”

Ignoring the way his companion got off topic, Jareth’s eyes narrowed on the painting down the side of the building listing the shop’s key services. ‘Fortune telling? Tinctures? Crystal readings? Love Potions? Honestly…love potions? What is this, the Victorian Age all over again?”

The dark haired driver spun the wheel of the 1962 black-on-black Corvette sharply, whipping it into a parking space in front of the shop. “I have it on good authority that they have far more than mere love potions, brother. In fact, they seem to cater to our kind, so I thought it was high time I checked it out.”

“I’ll wait in the car,” grumbled Jareth.

“Come on, Jareth. It will be fun. If nothing else, it will be goblin-free.”

Reluctantly Jareth opened the car door and followed his brother toward the door of the shop. “Fine, but love potions?”

His companion merely smirked. “Well, since you are in dire need of something to break your dry spell on the romantic front, and our powers don’t work on our own kind, perhaps human magic might help you over the hump…or to get your leg over…whatever.”

Jareth growled low in his chest and rolled his eyes, but followed his brother into the shop.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Hearing the chimes again, Sarah looked up and had to clench her teeth to keep her jaw from falling open. The man who glided into the shop was unlike anyone she had ever laid eyes on in her life – and most definitely not human. He was tall and lithe, with short dark hair, black eyes and an irresistible bit of dark ‘five-o’clock-shadow’. While she had several customers who wore suits, this one wore the suit as if he was born to wear it. The black suit had the sheen of heavy weight silk, and was cut modern and tight. His dark purple shirt was tight enough that it hinted at the lightly muscled chest beneath the sleek material, while his pants hugged a certain bit of his anatomy almost as much as a certain Fae’s tights did. Blinking at the sight of him, Sarah felt heat pool in her belly and a deeply rooted longing to feel his touch shiver through her. Irritated at the feel of power rushing over her without her consent, Sarah quickly palmed the crystal and iron amulet she kept under the till, while keeping a warm and friendly smile on her face.

“Can I help you, Sir?” she asked, slipping the amulet inside the waistband of her jeans and relaxing a bit as the magic began to quell the unwanted magic of the man before her.

“Ahh…hello darling,” he purred, strolling over to lean upon the counter where sat. “I’m Lucifer…Lucifer Morningstar…”

Arching an eyebrow, Sarah gave a knowing chuckle. “Morningstar…right… So, you’re the Devil huh?”

“Indeed I am, darling. No sense lying to you since you are known amongst the local mystical expats as one who has the ‘Fairy Sight’ – although why they give the twinky fairies credit for that I don’t know.”

Behind the dark man another entered the shop, immediately turning to look at a rack of crystals near the door. He had fine white-blond hair, cut short, but still somewhat ‘spiky’. The blond was wearing a similarly cut suit in dove-grey, the collar of a black shirt just peeking under his hair at the back. Glinting at the side of his head she noticed a silver hoop in his ear. Nodding toward the blonde man looking at the crystals, Sarah gave the dark man a sly smile, “If you’re the Devil, who is that? Beezelbub?”

Glancing at the blonde man, the dark man laughed, the sound a sultry purr that resounded in Sarah’s head, making her clutch a second amulet in her other hand. “Beezy? Oh no darling, he’s shorter and sports a white beard. No, that’s my brother…. Well… step-half-brother twice-removed or some such thing,” he cooed, giving her a charming smile. “Isn’t that right, Jareth?”

At that sound of _that_ name, Sarah fought the urge to snap her head up and look at the blonde by the door. Fighting her natural instincts, she kept her casually disinterested air and glance slowly upward, finding Jareth looking at her with thinly veiled distrust.

 _‘Oh fuck me…it’s him…the Goblin King…in my shop…fuuuuuuuuck,’_ Sarah screamed inwardly, while her mind declared DEFCON 1 and was busily preparing battle stations. Clutching the amulets tighter, she kept his gaze, praying to any Gods and Goddesses listening that the glamour she had asked Aine to give her for added protection actually worked – afterall, the Fae princess was a bit out of practice and working with partially bound powers.

“Technically he is my cousin, but following the lineage of Nephilim to High Fae is so complicated it is easier to claim we are brothers,” came the cool tone of the Goblin King, turning away from her again to lightly run his finger over a large crystal ball in a stand.

Swallowing heavily, Sarah nodded, struggling to pull her gaze back to Lucifer. “So, is there something in particular I can help you with?”

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled mischievously at that, as he leaned closer over the counter. “Well, that _is_ the question isn’t it my dear. We didn’t have anything in particular in mind when we stopped in here, but now that I see you’ve got a tarot deck out, how about you do a reading for my brother here, hmm?”

Sarah looked down at the cards on the glass countertop and felt her face flush. Without a word she scooped the cards back into the pile and put the box away. Smiling curiously at her, the dark haired being, cocked his head and looked at her. “Why…I do believe you are a bit flustered? Is it me or is it my brother that aggrieves you so, my dear.”

“Neither…I…I just don’t use that deck for customer readings. It’s personal,” Sarah stammered, tucking the new deck into the till and locking it. “To be honest, your brother doesn’t seem interested in a reading. Perhaps you would prefer to look at the crystals instead?”

Jareth shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Astute observation. I am only here to appease my brother.”

Before she could process what was happening, she felt a jolt of warmth as Lucifer swept behind the counter and wrapped his arm lightly around Sarah’s back, walking her out from behind the counter toward the small table covered by brightly colored Russian gypsy scarves. In the middle of the table sat a black leather box embossed with Elvish runes of protection and wisdom. “This is where you do readings, I assume, since it has a set of cards in a lovely little box. How quaint, isn’t it brother?”

Rolling his eyes, Jareth moved to a rack of herbal tinctures and teas, sniffing some of the jars and bottles, while clearly attempting to ignore his brother. Lucifer nudged Sarah to sit in the comfortable chair, and turned toward Jareth. “Come on, brother. She can’t read my future for obvious reasons, Dear Old Dad has strict policies where I am concerned, but surely she could do a reading for you. Have pity on your bored brethren and sit down here. Let the lovely girl with the enchanting purple eyes do a reading for you.”

Jareth’s jaw tightened at the cajoling from Lucifer. “Fine...I’ll do it, but only so that you stop pestering me about it,” he finally growled, sitting in the seat across from Sarah.

Watching him warily, Sarah opened the black box and drew out a piece of red velvet that was wrapped around her favourite deck of cards. She counted each slow breath as she fought to control the sense of panic that burned just under the surface. So far Jareth hadn’t shown any sign of recognizing her, so her glamour must be holding, but that could change as soon as they began working with her primary deck. Although she had other decks, this one gave the most accurate readings – and no wonder, she had designed it based upon her time in the Underground. The back of the cards depicted a golden labyrinth design, and the fronts of the cards had been drawn and painted by Sarah over a five year period. She slowly unwrapped them and pulled the iron amulet and rose quartz from on top of them.

“Interesting way of protecting your cards,” Jareth mused, folding his hands on top of the table.

“It’s less about protection and more about cleansing them between clients. Some of my clients have…well…baggage. I like to do what I can to remove the influence of such baggage between readings.” Sarah picked up the cards and shuffled them gently.

“See, she’s kind to. You could learn a thing or two from her, brother.” Leaning over Jareth’s shoulder, Lucifer grinned, his dark eyes lighting up with glee. “Ohh… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a deck like that before, and I’ve seen rather a number of tarot cards over the years. Custom is it? Whoever did it does lovely work if the backs are to be believed. I can’t wait to see the actual graphics on the fronts.”

“Um…yeah. I designed it based on descriptions I’ve heard from others….” Lucifer glanced quickly at her, arching an eyebrow and giving her a knowing smirk. “And… things I’ve seen,” she added, correcting the lie.

Fanning the cards out in front of her, Sarah ran her hands over the backs of the cards, before pulling them back into a neat stack and placing them in front of Jareth. “Clear your mind and shuffle the cards. You may wish to ask a specific question of the cards, but you don’t have to…in case you want a more general reading. Shuffle as many times as you like until you feel ‘comfortable’ with the state of the deck, then place it on the blue glass plate.”

Jareth pursed his lips and looked at the deck of cards, then at the dark-haired woman before him, making no move to touch the cards. “Just so we are clear, I think this is nonsense.”

“Well, you are the Goblin King, so I suppose you would think that human magic is beneath you,” she countered, her purple eyes snapping as she glared at him. Try as she might to keep her temper in check, something about his superior attitude grated terribly upon her nerves.

When he stepped foot into the small shop, Jareth wasn’t entirely sure what to expect – but hearing his title bandied about by a human witch was definitely not on his list of likely outcomes. His head tilted a bit as he regarded her, pale blue eyes narrowing thoughtfully on her face. She was pretty, but not in the traditional sense. The deep purple-blue color of her hair suited her lightly-tanned skin. Picking up the cards he slowly began to shuffle them while continuing to examine the woman sitting across from him. She gazed at him with bright purple eyes, her expression one of challenge, which puzzled him as he had not done or said anything that could reasonably be construed to be worthy of challenging. Shaking off the thought, he considered her eyes. Ordinarily, eyes of that color in his worth would suggest Royal Elvish heritage, but with what he knew of human-kind, that color was not possible via natural means, so she must be wearing what the humans called ‘contacts’.

Her top was simple, made of black lace, with a purple brocade corset laced over it. A pretty combination given her hair and eyes, if not a bit ‘stereotypical’ given her line of work. Shuffling the cards further, he pursed his lips, never taking his eyes from her face. “Do you make a good living as a charlatan?”

Sarah felt a burst of anger explode to life inside her at his question. “Rude much?” she replied, trying to keep her voice calm since being upset would definitely skew the reading. “For your information, I won this shop. I’m actually a theoretical physicist at the university.”

Sliding into a chair nearby, Lucifer clapped his hands with gleeful surprise. “Well aren’t you just a bundle of delightful contradictions. So tell me, any luck solving the mysteries of the universe?”

She shrugged and gave Lucifer a slow smile, “Not as yet, although I have it on good authority that the answer to life, the universe and everything is 42.” Swallowing slowly, she returned her attention to Jareth, watching his slender fingers deftly working the cards. After several more moments of shuffling, he set the cards on the blue plate and sat back in his chair. With leonine movements, he crossed his arms over his chest, his face a mask as he watched her.

“Right then,” she said, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. With each breath she visualized her anger and irritation at the Fae being pushed out the soles of her feet. When she opened her eyes once more, she was focused enough that she barely registered that she was no longer alone in the shop, here entire attention was focused on the cards. With gentle movements, she turned over the first card, placing it at the center of the upper edge of the white scarf she used as her reading surface. Carefully she lay five more cards face down on the table, the cards taking on a slight ‘V’ shape that angled upward before angling down again.

Shutting her eyes once more, she took a long slow breath, then reached out, turning over the first card – The King of Cups. _‘I would have expected ‘The Magician’,’_ she mused to herself. The image showed a King who looked remarkably like Jareth had when she met him in their final confrontation, feathery and soft, but still harsh. He was depicted sitting upon a throne, wearing a mask with two faces, bits of wispy blonde hair tipped with blue standing out around and above the mask. If he recognized himself in the card, Jareth gave no indication.

“This is you, Your Majesty,” she heard herself say, but her mind was so far away from the reading that she didn’t have time to wonder at her words. “You are a man of contradictions. You present one face to the world and have other faces that are reserved for different people and situations. At times you feel conflicted by your split nature. You are a man of power and authority, yet you seek simpler things to soothe your spirit.”

Smirking, Lucifer leaned forward, his eyes alight with fascination at Sarah’s words. “Oh… well done, witch. You nailed him in one. Well…okay, perhaps nailed isn’t the right phrasing since you are both still clothed, but you pegged him… Hmm… that isn’t quite right either.”

Two pairs of irritated eyes glared at Lucifer, one crystalline blue, the other flashing purple. Lucifer waggled his hand toward the table, as if shooing them. “Don’t mind me, do continue.”

 “Do. Shut. Up. Lucifer,” Jareth snapped, his gaze glued to the witch before him, searching for any hint of deceit or guile.

Taking another deep breath, Sarah tried to refocus herself, before reaching out and turning over the next card. “This is where you are now.” Opening her eyes she looked at the card and found herself interested in the what card revealed. It depicted a man wearing a hooded cloak, facing away from the viewer, with his head bowed. Upon the ground lay five scattered goblets of silver, with wine the color of blood spilt from them. “The five of cups. This signifies a man who is trying to move forward, but past regrets keep him from truly making progress, instead making him feel solitary and alone. There is self-doubt here, about something that happened. The next card will clarify that somewhat.”

Jareth felt his heart stutter a bit in his chest as she described the feelings that had plagued him for the past ten years. Each day he went through the motions of running his kingdom, but no matter what he was doing, he was just a split second away from reliving his worst failure – the day his Labyrinth was beaten and his heart stolen by the green-eyed girl.

Lost in the cards now, Sarah’s fingers paused, caressing the back of the third card slightly before flipping it over with a faint ‘snick’ sound as the card snapped upon the table. The front of the card depicted a woman wearing a red bilaut, around her middle was a golden colored winding cloth bound with golden cords. Upon her head is a wreath of roses. She stands facing a man in a deep blue jacket and black trousers, a wreath of greenery resting on his brow. They are each holding a golden goblet.

“This is what you seek. The two of cups. You seek union with another, the healing that only a spiritual love can bring. You wish to drink of the loving cup, with the one who holds the other half of your heart.

“Hah! And you said you had no use for a love potion, brother!” Lucifer chuckled, leaning forward and watching the reading with a gleeful smile. “I say, this is proving to be far more illuminating than I expected. So my brother has regrets and seeks a deep connection.” Turning he gives Jareth a sly smirk “Do you have a person in mind for this ‘deep connection, Jareth? Or are you craving any bit of female company? If it’s the later, I’m sure we can find a willing woman with wanton sensibilities.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed on the fallen one seated between she and Jareth. “What part of ‘seeks a deeper connection’ do you think equates to ‘he just needs to get laid,” she snapped, then cringed inwardly at the knowledge of _who_ she had just mouthed off to.

Surprisingly, Lucifer did not seem the slightest bit offended, if anything he was amused by her reaction. “Ohhh…I like you witch. You have spirit and fire. Tell me, do you believe me to be real and ‘evil’? And would you care to discuss it later over a drink…say at my place?”

Jareth quirked an eyebrow up at the seer’s comment, his lips twitching at the corner, before pulling into the first hint of a smile he had shown since entering the shop. “You started this reading nonsense, brother. Now shut up and let her get on with it.”

As Sarah turned her attention back to the cards, her eyes met Jareth’s for a moment. The intensity in his gaze set something ablaze deep within her, a heat that burned in ways she had never known when looking at any other man. If she didn’t have faith in the power of her amulets to deflect magic from influencing her, she would swear it was Fae sensuality, but no…that couldn’t be it, which left only one reason – attraction.

Swallowing heavily she reached out and turned over the next card. “The seven of swords.” Sarah frowned slightly at the sight, running her finger gently over the card, looking at the graphic which showed soldier partially hooded in a cloak, sneaking away with five swords in his arms, and two more scattered behind him, stuck point down in the path.

 “Why the frown?” demanded Jareth, a strange feeling stealing over him at the look on the woman’s face as she considered card.

“This is the primary obstacle you face in achieving your goal, Your Majesty. The card has various meanings, but the one that seems to speak most to me at the moment is…deception.”

At that, Lucifer chuckled darkly, rubbing his hands together as he leaned onto the table. “Ohh…I love a good mystery.”

Ignoring Lucifer, Sarah reached over and turned over the next card. “This card represents your strengths or the resources that are available to help you,” she explained. Her eyes narrowed upon the card, a pensive frown pinching her face. “This is rather unexpected. The Wheel of Fortune.”

Jareth looked at the card, wondering why it should cause the witch to look so thoughtful. It seemed simple enough, showing three women, one Fae, one Elf and a Sprite, balancing between their outstretched hands a wheel with arcane symbols marked around it. In their free hand each carried a drop spindle, and had golden shears hanging from their belts by a simple chain.

“The Wheel of Fortune, spun by the Fates,” he asked, his hands now resting upon the table, as he leaned in closer.

Lips still pursed, Sarah nodded. “Yes, usually this card comes up as an obstacle or an outcome. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it show up as a resource or a strength. The meaning that springs to mind in this position is favourable – you will be given another chance, but it may not come in the way you expect.”

Sitting back in his chair once more, Jareth folded his arms over his chest, his jaw tight as he regarded the woman. He had not asked the cards a question as he shuffled, just merely asked them to search his heart and to speak to his greatest wish. _‘I should have known it would involve love…and that blasted Sarah,’_ he thought to himself, feeling a wave of regret, tinged with irritation rush through him. _‘A second chance at her hand is impossible though, I have no power over her and have no way to find her.’_ He nodded at the purple-eyed witch, who was still gazing thoughtfully at the cards. “And the last card?”

Lucifer purred happily, his hands clasped under his chin as he watched. “Indeed, this is quite gripping. I’d even go so far as to say it is delightfully suspenseful to see how Jareth’s second-chance at love will play out.”

Sarah reached forward and carefully flipped the last card over. Jareth glared at the card before catching her eye. “Death?”

“Actually, Your Majesty, the meaning of the Death card should not be taken at face value. It is does not necessarily mean the end of life, but more a transition. I would venture to guess that when you work through whatever this situation is, you will find a new beginning, leading to a significant transition. I cannot see what the change is, but I feel it is positive,” she said, folding her hands in her lap and dropping her eyes once more to the cards.

 A soft golf-clap from Lucifer interrupted her quiet contemplation of the cards. “Well done, darling. Oh you really are a treasure. Jareth, does your court need a seer?”

Jareth gave Lucifer a dark look. “Human intuition is useless against the powers wielded by Underground races, Lucifer. You know that. What good could the girl possibly do for me?”

Irritated by Jareth’s words, Sarah growled and opened the black leather box once more, removing a blue pouch. With her eyes locked upon his, she shook the pouch three times, then opened it, presenting it to him. “Choose three runes and lay them on the table.”

Jareth cocked an eyebrow at her tone. “I’m not accustomed to taking orders from mere mortal witches.”

Fighting the urge to say things she knew she would regret, Sarah merely hissed at the Goblin King. “You think I am so useless to you, then try me… Goblin King. Take the chance. Pull three tiles from the pouch and I will tell you more about the woman. No charge.”

Clearly not convinced, Jareth reached into the bag and pulled three bone tiles from it, laying them on the table in front of him. The witch studied them a moment, then nodded. “I see a green-eyed woman who took something valuable from you. Unknowingly she bound you, but in so doing she bound herself. Things will change, but not in the way you expect.”

Rolling his eyes, Jareth shrugged. “That is suitably vague enough that it could be applied to anyone who has lived as long as I have. Do you have any idea the number of green-eyed women I have known over the years?”

Sarah lifted her head, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him, her words icy when she spoke. “Oh, so you never lost power over a girl named Sarah? My mistake… _Your Majesty_.” Ignoring his very presence, Sarah pushed back from the table and rose. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Lucifer. “That will be $75 for the tarot reading. The runes were no charge.”

Lucifer smiled broadly and pulled out his wallet. “That was highly entertaining, my dear,” he chuckled, holding out three crisp $100 bills. “Wasn’t it Jareth?”

“How did you know that?” came the quiet demand from the Goblin King. It was clear in his tone that he expected an answer and it had better be the ‘right’ one.

Barely glancing over her shoulder at Jareth, Sarah gave him a cold look. “What does it matter? I’m _just_ a human witch. A mere mortal. A _charlatan_. I have nothing that can be of any use to the mighty Goblin King.”

Looking from the runes to the witch, Jareth was amazed to feel a slight heat flow through him. She had strength and courage, something he rarely found in any other woman. Still watching her, he rose, and pulled a $100 bill from his wallet, then dropped it next to the cards. “For the runes,” he said, then turned and left the shop.

“You’ll have to excuse my brother,” Lucifer purred as he rose, tucking his wallet back into the pocket of his suit jacket. “There’s a long story involved a girl named Sarah, a room of illusion and a slight disagreement over a baby. He’s still a bit touchy over it, although it’s a wonderful tale of adventure, poor decision making and thwarted advances. I’d love the regale you with the story sometime.” Pulling a business card from his breast pocket he offered it to Sarah, who took it. “Stop by my club sometime and I’ll buy you a drink and tell you _all_ about it.”

Still chuckling and muttering to himself, the tall dark-haired man swept from her shop, leaving Sarah holding a black business card. Turning it over in her fingers, at first it appeared to have no writing on it at all, then as the light hit a particular angle, she saw the words in deep red. “Lux  6669 W. Sunset Bld.”

From the parking lot she heard the loud roar of an engine, then a squeal of tires as the car sped away, leaving her with the faint scent of brimstone upon the air, mixed with the smell of summer rain and exotic spices that were unique to only one person -- Jareth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. I'm afraid I have to write when the muse strikes and major issues with new bosses at work have made it hard for my muse to focus. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it has sexy Jareth and a bit of 'dark' Jareth in it (yay! Gotta love me some 'dark/sexy' Jareth).

As always, please review.... they really do help me on days when the rest of the world feels like it is trying to drown me in the Bog of Eternal Stench. :)

* * *

 

**Ch 2**

As the car roared out of the small parking area, Sarah collapsed into the chair, her eyes falling to the cards still spread out on the white lace shawl that covered the table. It was bad enough that Jareth, the Goblin King himself, had been in her shop; but the fact that she had been coerced into doing a reading for him – by none other than the Devil himself – well, it was all just a bit much for one afternoon. Slowly her eyes drifted over the cards in front of her, a niggling sensation tickling the back of her mind.

' _Was this reading for me…or for Jareth,'_ she wondered, her eyes falling to the two of cups card.

Her run through the Labyrinth and her interactions with the mercurial ruler of the land had definitely changed her life, reminding her of what was truly important – love. While the love between Sarah and her family, especially her little brother blossomed, she had been decidedly unlucky in love on a personal level. Sure, she had dated and had her share of casual relationships, but no one kept her interest very long. They were all nice enough, even the 'bad boys', yet in the end she walked away; a pattern that earned her the nickname 'Queen of Broken Hearts' in college. Despite her lousy luck in love, and the cool, aloof exterior she presented to the world, if she was honest with herself, her deepest wish was to find the other half of her heart. Her soul-mate.

' _Either Jareth is seeking the same, or the reading was about you,'_ her inner-self mused, a claim Sarah couldn't deny. While she was not the Goblin King, all of the cards in the reading fit her own situation.

Idly turning the business card over in her fingers, Sarah paused to read it once more, noting fine print along one edge – Present at door for entry.

"It's been awhile since I've gone out for some fun," she muttered, tracing the slightly embossed red lettering with her fingertip. "It has nothing to do with possibly seeing Jareth again."

' _You can say that as much as you want, I'm not buying a word of it,'_ snarked her inner-self, while her libido just gawked at her before squeaking. _'Did you see him in that suit?! It was suit porn…In. The. Flesh!'_

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Tugging at the front of her silver lame` halter top, Sarah took a deep breath, steeling herself, then stepped out of the taxi, with Aine and Sean right behind her. In front of them, the sleek building that housed Lux loomed over them, gleaming steel and dark tinted glass. 'Lux' was spelled out on the side of the building in huge, blood-red metal letters, which shimmered with an almost other-worldly glow.

"Ugh… I feel like a virgin sacrifice to the altar of Studio 54," Sarah muttered, more to herself than Aine, then tossed her head, her purple-black bob swinging against the side of her face. She preferred the dark clothing, with lashings of lace, brocade and corsetry that she usually wore – lame` clubbing gear wasn't really her thing. The thin silver material of the top skimmed over her bare breasts, attaching behind her neck and in the center of her back with fine silver chains. If it weren't for the fact that she was wearing her favourite pair of black leather pants that were custom made to fit like a second skin, she'd be positively miserable. _'At least you talked Aine into letting you wear your 'Jareth' pants,_ ' her libido giggled. And it was true. The pants were as tight as those Jareth wore when she first met him. For some reason, when she wore them she found herself able to channel his air of self-confidence and superiority – an attitude which served her well when put in odd situations, such as walking into the highly restrictive club Lux.

Aine laughed, hooking her arm in Sarah's. Sarah laughed and grabbed Sean's arm in her other arm, pulling him with her toward the 'Special Guests' entrance. As they walked along, she was keenly aware of the envious looks from the huge line of people waiting behind the velvet ropes – waiting in the vain hope of being let in. Everyone knew that getting into Lux was a tricky thing. If you were on 'the list' it was easy, if you weren't it meant waiting in line for hours and hoping that when you made it to the front of the line, the bouncer or whoever was screening people, thought you were the 'right sort' of person to enter. Even on their best night, with Aine, Sean and Sarah using every bit of magic the three of them possessed, they hadn't been allowed into the club when they reached the front of the line.

But tonight they had a coveted 'black ticket' which guaranteed them entry into the exclusive dance club.

Glancing to her side, Sarah smirked at Aine from beneath darkly made-up eyes. Sarah felt the way Aine strutted, her red silk dress gliding sensuously over every sleek curve of her body. Although Aine had her powers partly bound when she came Above, from the way every mortal male looked at her like she was the last piece of chocolate in a box, Sarah was pretty sure the natural Fae sexuality hadn't been bound – which also would explain why Aine could make three times more tips at the strip club than any of the other dancers, even on a bad night.

As they neared the much shorter line by the private entrance, Sarah pulled Sean and Aine in close. "Don't forget, tonight I'm Amethyst, nothing else."

Sean nodded, while Aine rolled her eyes. "I don't see why you have to pull out all the cloak and dagger stuff, Sa…." At the irritated glare from Sarah, Aine huffed. "Fine… Amythest."

"Just humour me, okay? There are certain people that might be here tonight and I don't want them knowing my real name."

Waiting behind the posh couple in front of them, Sean leaned in and looked at the black card in Sarah's manicured fingers. "So how _did_ you score that card anyway?" he asked in his usual baritone brogue.

Sarah shrugged, playing off the encounter with Lucifer and the Goblin King. While her friends knew that she was aware of the Underground and the special 'needs' of her Underground clientele, she had never felt the need to tell them about her experience with the Labyrinth and it's mercurial monarch. "The owner stopped by on private business and left this card as a tip. Since you got the part in the TV show, it seemed only right to go out and celebrate in style."

When they reached the front of the private line, the three friends were greeted by a big bear of a man, his heavily muscled arms folded firmly over his chest as he looked at them. Next to him stood a deceptively small woman, wearing a black tank top and a matching cargo skirt. Her dark eyes looked the three of them up and down, with a guarded expression.

"Do you have a card?" she asked, her lips wrinkling as if expecting them to say no.

Growling inwardly, Sarah held up the card between two scarlet painted fingernails. "Mr. Morningstar left this with me this morning. It was such a _kind_ offer, I thought it would be rude not to accept."

Before Sarah could blink, the dark-haired woman plucked the card from her fingertips and looked at it. Then she nodded. "You must be the little witch. Come with me," she ordered, then turned and walked toward the heavy red doors of the club. As the dark woman neared them, they slowly opened, leaving her room to sashay through the opening.

Grabbing Aine and Sean's arms, Sarah followed the other woman, wondering at the knife handles poking above the back of her waistband, clearly visible against the flesh of her back, bared by the low cut back of her top. The three of them followed her into the crowded club; the sounds of 'Fame '91' pounding through the floor and air, until each thudding beat seemed to make Sarah vibrate inside. Around them people gyrated, their bodies writhing under the cool blue light of the club, accentuated by the flickering of silvery strobe lights that gave their movements an odd 'time-lapse' feeling, as if they were watching a film with missing frames. Weaving through the club, the woman finally stopped next to the edge of the dance floor, nodding at the burly bouncer standing next to a raised grotto. He unclipped the purple velvet rope blocking the three steps leading up to the raised platform, as the woman looked at them.

"Compliments of Mr. Morningstar. This is the special guest grotto. All food, drinks and other _services_ are comped for the evening."

Sarah looked up at the lushly furnished grotto and blinked in surprise. There was a semi-circular couch on the platform, big enough to seat at least 10 people. In the open area was a low round coffee table, surrounded by plush cushions. Behind the couch on either side were two more 'private' areas, filled with larger futon floor cushions and partly blocked from view by semi-opaque curtains in deep blue and silver. The entire grotto was covered by a pergola shrouded in layers of sheer blue and silver net, giving the whole thing almost a seraglio feel. Aine and Sean laughed and launched themselves up into the grotto, lounging on the couch and watching the crowd on the dance floor.

"Please thank him for the offer, but I know better than to accept 'gifts' from mystical beings," Sarah said ignoring the cold look she was given by the dark-haired woman. Sarah held out the three-hundred dollars that Lucifer had given her earlier. "The grotto is sufficient for our needs, but we'll pay for anything else. Could we please have a bottle of champagne?"

Without a word the woman plucked the money from Sarah's fingers and stalked off. Wrinkling up her nose, Sarah stepped up into the grotto and joined her friends. "Man, she was unfriendly."

Aine shrugged, scooting over to make room for Sarah between herself and Sean. "Yeah, many demons are."

"Whoa…she was a demon?!" asked Sean, his eyes scanning the crowd for the woman who seemed to have disappeared.

"Yeah. A powerful one too. So just don't piss her off, okay?" Aine shivered, shaking her head. "She's got demon blades strapped to her back. I'm guessing that if what I've heard about Morningstar is true, she's probably his bodyguard or something – not like he'd really need it, I suppose."

Sarah nodded, her own eyes scanning the crowd – but she wasn't looking for the woman who showed them in. In the back of her mind she felt a small tickling sensation and knew without a doubt that Jareth was in the club.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Music pulsed and swirled around him, but Lucifer barely noticed it. The noise mortals called music was just part of owning the club, but what truly thrilled him about it was the thrum of human emotion and desires that swirled with the music. Shutting his eyes as he leaned on the railing at the edge of the owner's grotto on the upper level, he purred happily. Oh yes, he could feel the need as clearly as if it was his own – which in a way it was. Lust. Sex. Drugs. Deceit. Anger. Treachery. Shame. Love. It was all there, ripe for the taking. Still purring he opened his eyes, looking down upon the dancers grinding against one another in a crude imitation of sexual pleasure. He knew Maz thought he used the club to twist mortals to his ends, but really, he only had the club so he could feast upon the freely flowing emotions of the mortals (and other creatures) who visited.

Catching sight of the dark-haired demon, stalking through the crowd, he paused, his thoughts centering upon his long-time sentry. Despite her years at his side, she still did not understand the nature of his dealings with humans. He didn't inspire them to do anything they didn't already _want_ to do, he merely enjoyed the results when they gave into their baser instincts. True, he had on occasion given the odd mortal a bit of a 'nudge' to give into their desires, but that was all it ever took – the tiniest nudge.

"How can you stand this noise, Lucifer?" Jareth asked, casually leaning on the railing next to Lucifer, his pale eyes hooded. He looked out over the crowd with a disinterested air, twirling two crystal orbs in a gloved hand.

Lucifer glanced up from the crowd and gave Jareth a wicked grin. "If I want to feast upon their more base emotions, then I have to give them what they need to let those emotions free, brother." Waving his hand toward the private grotto next to the dance floor, he purred. "See… another delicious little _morsel_ just waiting to be properly tasted."

Tilting his head, Jareth followed the wave of Lucifer's hand, seeing the witch with the purple eyes dancing with a blonde woman and a young black man, upon the private dancing platform attached to the grotto. Jareth rolled his eyes and gave Lucifer a cool look. "You mean mortal."

"Yes…that too…" laughed Lucifer, eying the witch hungrily. "Don't tell me you have no desire to taste of her, brother. Even now, I can smell the sweet-scent of need upon her. Can't you?"

Jareth turned his attention back to the private grotto overlooking the main dance floor. The dance platform's glass bottom hung out over the lower dance floor in such a way that a group of young men soon were dancing under it, their heads thrown back as they looked up – getting a prime view of the blonde's 'assets' since she was dancing on the clear floor in a tight red dress. But the blonde didn't hold his attention long. It was the witch that was mesmerizing, even to the mighty Goblin King. He watched, transfixed as she danced, her body seeming to slither from side to side, like a cobra. Her silver top shimmered under the icy strobe lights, giving her an otherworldly appearance. Without thinking about it he blinked, his eyes narrowing to slits as his predatory sight came into focus, homing in on the witch with the mysterious purple eyes. Slowly he looked her up and down, smiling at the telltale piercing shaped 'bumps' underneath her thin silver shirt.

"I do so love the clubbing fashions that require them not to wear those miserable contraptions called 'bras'," Lucifer chuckled, purring as the blonde spun around, her breasts jiggling in a most enticing way.

"Hmm…I'm more fascinated by their penchant for exotic piercings," replied Jareth, his eyes still clued to the witch.

"Well when you're done oogling the stupid mortals, I've got a message for you from the witch," Maz grumbled from behind them. Leaning over the bar of the owner's suite, she grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey and poured herself a generous glass, leaving the bottle still open on the counter as she downed the drink.

Lucifer joined her at the bar, smiling as he filled his own glass once more. "A message? Do tell."

"She says to tell you thanks for the grotto, but that she will pay for anything they order."

A low purr of laughter rumbled from Lucifer's chest as he moved back toward the railing and leaned against it once more, his black eyes drawn to the purple-haired witch. "Oh, she really is delightful."

"She keeps strange company – I mean really…a fairy and a puca? Why are you interested in her anyway?" Maz asked, refilling her glass then joining Lucifer by the railing.

"The mortal intrigues me."

Maz's dark eyes narrowed as she looked at her boss. "What mortal?"

Sipping his drink, Lucifer's gaze never left the witch with the purple hair. "The one with the lovely purple eyes, of course."

A short huff of laughter from Maz caught both Lucifer and Jareth off guard. "You're losing your touch Lucifer…that girl isn't mortal. Not fully anyway." Two heads, one fair and one dark swiveled toward the demon, as she casually sliced her finger with one of her blades, letting thick drops of blood fall onto the metal surface before licking them off. "Not sure what she is, but she isn't human," she said with a shrug, before slipping her knife back into the holster at the small of her back. "Her aura has a strange taste to it. Something I haven't come across before. There's something dark about it, but not quite demon. Balanced by something light, but not angelic. And there is a hint of Underground magic to her, but not Fae or any of the prime races. It's almost like she's some sort of…."

"Magical petri dish…" Lucifer chuckled, his black eyes glittering like obsidian. "How appropriate. Hmm… and interesting that neither of us noted it, brother," he added, arching an eyebrow questioningly as he looked at Jareth. "Either we are losing our touch or her magic at the shop was strong enough to shield her." Turning to Maz, he grinned. "Take them a bottle of champagne."

Maz flicked three $100 bills onto the table with the tips of her fingers. "They already ordered one."

"Why would you take her money, Maz? You know that grotto is for house guests and fully comped," Lucifer growled, his black eyes flashing red as he frowned at her.

"I _know_ that and I told her as much. She was _very_ insistent. Says I was to tell you thanks, but she knows better than to be in debt to mystical beings – especially the Lord of the Underworld and Goblin King."

"Ohh…I like her even more," Lucifer laughed, his eyes finding the young witch once more. "Take her a bottle from my private stock and return her money." Pulling a card bearing the club logo on it from his jacket pocket, he handed it to Maz. "And give her this." Taking the card, Maz looked at it, her nose wrinkling up in disbelief as she read it. "Seriously? You expect her to believe this?"

Still smiling as he watched the witch, Lucifer waved his hand dismissively at the demon. "I may twist people who wish to be twisted, Maz…but the witch knows that even I can't tamper with free will. If I give my word, it will hold."

Growling under her breath, Maz slammed her empty glass down on the bar and disappeared from the private suite, muttering curses the whole way.

"She's rather unfriendly," commented Jareth, absently rolling a crystal across his palm as he too watched the witch.

"She's a demon. I certainly don't keep her around for her perky attitude."

Jareth nodded his head in agreement as he watched a waitress in a slinky black dress glide up to the grotto with a large magnum of champagne for the trio. With a flourish she popped the cork, then poured three glasses for the friends lounging upon the heavily cushioned sofa. Smiling and chatting with her friends, the witch took a glass, only to frown when the waitress offered her money back. Even from his spot on the upper balcony, he could see the witch's eyes flash darkly as she scanned the club. Despite the distance and the dim light, he knew the instant that she saw him, her eyes seeming to glow briefly. She reached out, stopping her friends from drinking from their glasses, then gestured toward the private balcony where Jareth and Lucifer were standing. A wicked grin curled his lips as Jareth watched the three of them frantically conversing.

"Oh to be a fly on the wall, as the humans say," he chuckled, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Looking at her glass, the witch's frown deepened. She seemed to nibble her lower lip a moment, before shutting her eyes. Fascinated, Jareth watched as she seemed to murmur softly, the three glasses briefly emitting a soft white light. When it faded she nodded at her friends who sipped their drinks, still eyeing the private balcony suspiciously.

"Clever girl," purred Lucifer, raising his glass in a silent toast to the girl. Seeing him, she slightly inclined her head, then sipped from her own glass.

Jareth couldn't help but smile at the way she seemed to challenge Lucifer at every turn. "Indeed. She'd have to be smart given the people she comes in contact with at her shop."

Finishing his drink, Lucifer set down the empty glass and gave Jareth a dark smirk. "I think it is time to go down and greet my guest and her friends properly. Care to join me, brother?"

Jareth's pale eyes flashed black as he nodded. "As a matter of fact, I think I shall. The witch is…."

"Intriguing?" suggested Lucifer with a knowing smirk.

"Quite," nodded Jareth, twirling a crystal briefly upon his fingertips before it vanished in a fine mist.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Sipping her drink cautiously, Sarah was glad she had thought to secrete a few personal spell sachets and amulets on her body before heading out to the club. _'You should have known_ _ **he'd**_ _be here and would do something,'_ snarked her inner-self. Of course, which 'he' didn't matter – after all, the Goblin King and the Devil were as dangerous as each other. As much as Sarah hated to admit it, she should have anticipated that she'd run into either Lucifer or Jareth at the club. In hindsight, coming to the club was probably a bad idea. _'This is the trouble your libido gets you into,'_ hurrumphed her inner-self with a superior air. _'Honestly. Lusting after the Goblin King? Haven't you outgrown that yet?'_ Sarah felt her cheeks flush a bit as her libido gave a lascivious purr and flashed up several images of just what Jareth might be hiding under his tight tights – images which only succeeded in making the pink in Sarah's cheeks burn hotter, as the warmth spread to pool low in her belly.

"Hey Sar…um Amthyst…did you hear me?" asked Aine, giving her friend a nudge with her elbow. "I asked if you wanted to dance some more?"

Sarah shook her head, pulling her mind back to her friends and smiled. "No, you two go ahead if you want. One of us should stay here and keep an eye on the champagne."

Sean laughed, rolling his eyes as he finished the rest of his glass of the bubbly liquid. "Come on, hon. Surely he wouldn't be bold enough to try to tamper with it with us nearby."

"Of course _I_ wouldn't, but I can't say the same for my brother, here," Lucifer purred, as he and Jareth entered the grotto. Smiling at Sarah he nodded toward the card on the table. "Didn't you get my message on the card, witch? I assure you, there is no debt owed on the grotto and any services purchased for this evening. You have my word."

Sarah's head jerked upward at the sound of Lucifer's voice, taking in the dark good looks of the Lord of the Underworld. His dark suit with blood red shirt made his eyes and features seem even darker. As handsome as Lucifer was, it was the sight of Jareth that made her heart falter in her chest, stuttering wildly before settling down once more. He was dressed in a dark grey suit, with a shirt of deep blue, which made his eyes seem to glow with an ethereal light. Catching her eye, he gave her a knowing smile, the corner of his lips curling up.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you. What can I say? I learned a long time ago not to trust the words of mythical beings, unless they give their oath," she replied, giving Lucifer a cool smile, which only seemed to amuse him, his eyes lighting up with delight.

"Forgive you? To turn a phrase, Hell no – that is my Father's thing, not mine," Lucifer laughed, his dark eyes glittering brightly.

Seeing the way Sarah's cheeks flushed, Aine whipped around, her mouth open to support Sarah, only to squeal in surprise, her hands flying over her mouth as her eyes widened.

"Uncle Jareth?"

"Uncle?!" breathed Sarah and Sean in unison, looking at Aine in surprise.

Jareth's eyes narrowed upon seeing the blonde Fae in the slinky red dress, his lips pulling into a tight light of disapproval. "Aine`… I thought you were supposed to be home by now."

"Oh now isn't this simply wonderful!" chuckled Lucifer, practically clapping his hands in glee. "It's a family reunion!"

Gulping, Aine seemed to shrink back toward Sarah, withering under the humourless stare from Jareth. "I um… you see… well….Uncle…it's like this."

Blinking at the stern look from Jareth, Sarah felt her stomach flutter, while the heated pool in her belly seemed to rumble to life with a burst of desire that flooded her system. Without warning her libido began to flash images of Jareth and his crop from the tunnels under the Labyrinth, including a few more 'graphic' suggestions of just what he might do with that graphic if he were _really_ displeased with her. As if sensing her turmoil, Lucifer gave a rumbling purr, arching an eyebrow while he watched her visibly squirm.

Not looking at the purple-haired witch, Jareth folded his arms over his chest as he pinned Aine in place with an unsmiling glare. "Let me guess, you were having too much fun and decided to flout your father's wishes regarding your marriage to the Storm King."

Aine fidgeted uncomfortably, her eyes flickering from Jareth to the floor in front of her. "You aren't going to tell him where I am, are you?"

Watching the girl seem to shrink under his gaze, Jareth gave a slight shrug. Then his stern expression slowly morphed, as a wicked smirk spread across his face. "You're in luck, your father and I aren't on speaking terms at the moment, so I can't foresee any reason I might be speaking to him, until he comes to his senses."

Feeling like she was watching a tennis match, Sarah looked from her roommate to Jareth, still unable to fully wrap her head around the fact that Aine was not only related to Jareth, but she was his niece.

"Really? What did Father do to piss you off so badly?" Aine relaxed again, leaning back with her glass in one hand and her arm across the back of the sofa. She casually sipped her champagne while she talked to the Goblin King.

Still off-balance by the surreal situation she found herself in, Sarah felt her belly throb as Jareth settled onto the end of the sofa with fluid grace. With an aloof tilt of his head, Jareth's gaze shifted from Aine to Sarah, making her pulse flutter violently at the base of her throat.

"He's been insisting that I marry one of your step-sisters to 'bind' our kingdoms," he replied, giving an elegant twist of his hand, then sipping from the crystal flute of champagne that appeared in his fingers.

"Let me guess, Father is trying to set you up with Roisin?" Aine asked, grimacing when Jareth nodded. "Eww… she is definitely not your type."

Quirking an eyebrow at her bold claim, Jareth's eyes darkened briefly. "I have a type?"

Aine nodded, giggling softly as she took a deep drink of her champagne. "Oh geeze. Anyone who has watched you at a ball for the last decade knows your type, Uncle Jareth! Brunette, with a backbone. Roisin is just…meh! You'd want to bog her within a week."

"Oh yes, that is definitely your type, brother!" Lucifer drawled. Chuckling softly, he squeezed between the purple-eyed witch and Aine`, giving Sarah a hungry grin. "Well _hello_ witch, I'm so glad you decided to take _advantage_ of my offer, of course if there is anything else you'd like to take advantage of, you have but to ask….myself for instance."

Sarah's lips pursed in a tight line and she growled low in her chest, as Sean wrapped his arm protectively around her, pulling her close. "Sorry mate, but Amethyst here is with me. Better luck with the fairy."

Feeling an odd sensation of bitter desire tug within his chest, Jareth glared at the young black man, his expression as cold as his words. "Don't you have a swamp to haunt somewhere, Puca`?"

"Who's the fairy with the bad attitude?" snapped Sean, his dark skin seeming to ripple under the strobe light. For an instant, Sarah was certain that she was seeing the 'real' version of her puca` friend, looking at Sean, superimposed by a large wolf-like creature, before the image faded again.

"He's the Goblin King…Keeper of the Labyrinth, Lord of Wishes and Those Wished Away, as well as a few other less than 'kind' titles."

Jareth felt the surge of heat inside him roar once more as the purple-eyed witch gave him a sly smirk while listing off his titles. Fully intending to call her out on her cheeky response, he was distracted as Aine` squeaked then giggled, while Lucifer draped his arm around her back and tucked her close to his side. Glancing at his niece, he felt a possessive surge within him, and growled low. "Don't even _think_ about it, Lucifer. You think 'Dear Old Dad' makes your unlife a misery, just imagine what Persephone would do if you molested her favourite great-niece.

Frowning slightly under mischievous eyes, Lucifer winked at Aine`. "Such a pity. You are definitely a luscious morsel, but Persephone is… well… not someone I care to trifle with. Say…didn't you audition to be a dancer at Lux a while back?"

Blushing furiously, Aine` nodded, as Jareth's growl increased in volume, his pale eyes darkening until they were midnight slits that made her shiver.

"You what?!" he demanded, his tone icy.

"A girl has to eat, Uncle Jareth. Especially since I have no further help from my family. Sa'…um Amethyst took me in, when I came into her shop looking for something to help me find a job."

Turning his dark eyes to the witch, he gave a slight nod of his head. "I suppose I should thank you then. You saved her from working in a place like this. Her family would be furious."

Aine` dropped her gaze to the floor, while the purple-eyed witch took a hasty gulp from her champagne glass. Watching the two young women fidgeting sheepishly, Jareth's expression hardened. They were hiding something, that much was clear from their unwillingness to look him in the eye or respond to his 'thanks'.

"Ohh… she didn't get the job here," Lucifer purred, giving the girls a wicked smirk. "So where _did_ you end up working, hmm, my dear?" he asked, leaning toward Aine`. Morningstar's eyes flashed red briefly, and Aine` looked at him with a vacant smile.

"Hey…no fair trying to put a whammy on her!" Sarah snapped, glaring at Lucifer, her violet eyes flashing brightly.

Turning his attention from the blonde, to the angry witch on his other side, Lucifer chuckled at the wave of irritation that seemed to pour from her due to his actions. "For some reason my powers of 'persuasion' don't work on you witch, but on a half-bound Fae, it's nice to know I still hold sway." Scooting closer to Aine` he murmured seductively, his power enveloping her, "So tell me darling, what job keeps you fed, housed and out of the bed of that nasty old Storm King, hmmm?"

"I strip at the Pussycat Club… the Storm King is ugly and smells of cabbage….if I marry him…I'll murder him within a month…." Aine` mumbled, blinking blearily at Lucifer.

The Devil sat back with a pleased smirk upon his face at her admission. Blinking, Aine` looked at the others with wide eyes, then covered her face in her hands, as Jareth's entire body seemed to shimmer with menace.

"You do _what?"_ he hissed, the sound of his voice seeming to momentarily freeze the others in the club, before it faded and they resumed dancing, unaware of the powerful magic sitting so near them. "I'm of half a mind to speak to your father upon my return to the Underground. That is highly inappropriate for a Princess of the Underground and you _know_ it!"

"No please!" Aine` gasped and lurched forward toward Jareth, as if she was going to beg him upon her knees not to tell her father.

Reaching out, Lucifer showed surprising gentleness as he pulled her to sit back on the couch. "Oh relax brother. It makes sense really. The High Fae have inherent sexual appeal to humans, so it is only natural that the girl would seek work in a way that would allow her to use her natural abilities."

"So why didn't _you_ hire her, _brother_?" the Goblin King snapped, his words dripping with venom.

Lucifer merely waved a hand toward the club dancers in glass cages suspended above the dance floor. "We only hire brunettes, it is kind of our 'thing' at Lux. It seems we share a 'type', brother," he laughed, then smiled slyly at Aine`. "And as I recall, your dear niece here refused my invitation to come upstairs for a 'proper' audition."

Giving Lucifer an incredulous look, Sarah growled. "You are unbelieveable!"

"So I've been told, darling," he purred, then returned her cold glare. "But save your ire, witch. I only tempt them to see where their true desires lie. Those who take up my invitation do so of their own free will – one of Dear Old Dad's big rules that." Leaning forward, Lucifer easily picked up the large magnum of champagne and poured more for the small party, a grin once more creeping across his face. "Now then, what brings you out tonight anyway? Did you come for the promised tales of the Goblin King and the Sarah girl? It's quite a good tale. One of my favourites, in fact. Although the one about Jareth and the Lich King's twin daughters is quite riveting too. Far funnier, especially if you don't mind a bit of smut in your stories."

Sarah's eyes narrowed on the Goblin King, as a wave of heat rushed through her, making her hands clench in her lap. "Twins huh? _Why_ am I not surprised," she snapped. "Sounds like some of the less 'flattering' titles for him are correct."

"And what's that supposed to mean, witch?" Jareth grumbled, leaning toward the low coffee table between them.

"Nothing _Your Majesty_ … your reputation preceeds you. That's all."

Jareth slammed his glass down on the table hard enough to slosh champagne down the sides of the crystal flute. "Oh…and just what have you heard, girl?"

Feeling the heat flooding her further, Sarah scooted to the edge of her seat, leaning toward Jareth as she sniped back at him, "That you are one of the worst playboys at court, with a reputation to match. Tell me, did you really bed every princess and a few of the princes of the Fae High Court on the same night?"

Jareth's eyes darkened once more until they were mere pinpricks of deepest night. "No… it was over a week….why? Are you jealous? Feeling left out, witch?"

"Hah! You wish. You can bed every woman in the Underground and half the demons in Hell, and you'll never find what you truly seek," she snarked back, her eyes glowing vivid green for a brief moment, as a pale blue aura surrounded her. It wasn't until the words were out of her mouth that she realized that somewhere deep inside, she knew her words to be both the truth, and a curse. Sitting in a high end club in the middle of Hollywood, Sarah had just cursed her childhood villain with the truth - A truth she suddenly understood herself. He wouldn't find relief in the arms of anyone but the one person who he had lost.

He wouldn't find what he wanted - until he found Sarah.

That knowledge sent a dark thrill through Sarah, knowing that what he so desperately wanted was right under his nose and he had no idea

' _This… could be fun,_ ' she thought, then tilted her head, giving the Goblin King a dark smile, her eyes shining with hidden promises.

"You really aren't human are you?" Jareth asked, his eyes dark as he glared at her. "What did you just _do_ , witch?"

Sarah shrugged, her purple eyes holding his with a steady gaze that showed no fear or guile. "Quite simple, really. I cursed you."

"You what?!" Jareth snarled, his eyes wide in outrage as his form seemed to flicker for a moment, his true form briefly visible - the steeply arched eyebrows, spikey long hair and Goblin Armor shimmering momentarily, before fading back to his Aboveground glamour.

"Temper temper Goblin King…." Sarah cooed, sitting back and crossing her arms across her chest. She slowly slid her right leg up her left, until his eyes flicked downward to watch them, then crossed her legs, giving him a good view of just how tight the leather was around them. "Do you always have those sorts of problems with 'controlling' yourself, Goblin King? No wonder no woman in the Underground falls into your bed more than once."

That struck him right where she aimed it – his pride.

"I'll have you know that it is _I_ who do the leaving, not them!"

"Liar. At least one left you…and she didn't even fall for your pretty little lies when you tried to entice her into your lair," she laughed, the sound a low purr of distain, that grated against his ears and pride.

At his puzzled glare, she laughed. "Sarah. Remember her? 15 year old mortal? Refused to fall for your tricks."

With an angry growl, Jareth lunged to his feet, his glamour flickering once more as he stormed off.

While Sean and Aine` gawked at Sarah after her intense war of words with the Goblin King, Lucifer laughed and clapped his hands. "Tell me. Did you really curse him?"

Feeling her bravado leave her in a rush, Sarah took a long drink of her champagne to settle her nerves, then nodded. "I…I…didn't mean to, but I think I did. It was the truth too."

Lucifer tilted his head slightly and eyed the witch, his expression both one of awe and oddly, respect. "Well played, little witch. You cursed my brother with his own truth. Very clever. Of course now he'll pout the rest of the evening. Oh well, more lovlies for me," he laughed, then winked at Sean. "Don't worry, unlike my brother, I don't have a problem with Pucas…or males. Now then darlings…shall we dance?"

Feeling the familiar tingle along the back of her neck, Sarah glanced up toward the balcony overlooking the dance floor. In the dim light she could just make out wisps of pale blonde hair and the dark glint of predatory eyes. _'Fuck him if he's going to pout about me throwing the truth in his face,'_ she grumbled inwardly, then turned and gave Lucifer a sultry smirk. "Come on…let's dance."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

From his vantage point in the owner's grotto, Jareth could see the entire club, including the people still lounging about on the sofa in the private grotto by the dance floor. The sight of his niece with Lucifer's arm around her was irritating enough, but he marveled at the wave of outright anger that suffused him seeing Lucifer's arm around the witch.

"She's just a witch. A charlatan," he growled to himself as he watched Lucifer convince the girls to move onto the main dance floor with him. Given the way the witch seemed to avoid Lucifer's advances, seeing her slide her body boldly against Lucifer, incensed Jareth. A burst of heat slid up his spine, lodging in the base of his throat with a sour taste. "Why does she affect me so? She is of no consequence!" All around him the air crackled as his magic writhed, as if demanding to be unleashed upon the one who caused his frustration – although Jareth was hard-pressed to decide who he was more angered by, Lucifer's apparent claim on the girl, the girl who both responded to Lucifer and needled him every chance she got, or with himself for being in any way interested in her.

His ethereal roar was hidden beneath the thudding bass of the music, as Jareth turned hurling his glass against the heavy wood and steel bar. The sound of the glass shattering was concealed by the music, but nothing could hide the blast of unadulterated Fae magic that ripple through the club, making lights flicker and sending the mortal dancers below into a frenzy of sexual energy.

"Simmer down there, Fairy Boy," Maz drawled from the doorway of the suite, her dark eyes flashing with malicious amusement at his loss of control.

"Go to hell, Demon…oh wait, you've already done so," the Goblin King snapped back, his glamour falling away to reveal the heavy black and red dragon hide armor of the Goblin regalia.

Maz laughed, the sound a low purr, as she glided toward the bar. "Naughty fairy, breaking things that don't belong to him." With a snap of her fingers the shattered glass was once more whole and sitting neatly upon the bar. Reaching over she grabbed the nearly empty bottle of whiskey they had been drinking from earlier and refilled the glass. "Speaking of things that don't belong to you, just why are you and Lucifer so damned interested in that little…whatever she is…magical petri dish? Surely you have better options for a bed-warmer than that one?"

"Why. Are you offering?" Jareth snarled, his eyes flickering red as he took the glass from the bar and sipped from it. In the next instant he hissed and glared angrily at the laughing demon, while a thick drop of blue dripped from a deep cut on his lip from a chip in the rim of the glass. The blue drop slid slowly into the amber liquid within, swirling to leave a green haze in the whiskey.

"Me? As the humans would say 'Hell no'…. I've been in the Lord of the Underworld's bed, there is nothing you could possible offer me, Fairy. So why don't you fly away home now."

Jareth's form seemed to shimmer briefly, before his image shifted, revealing obsidian eyes, ringed by red. The air around him seemed to hiss like water turning to steam on hot coal. Chuckling she gave him an appreciative nod.

"Ahh…there's your true form. Far better than that poncy fairy guise," she said, then grabbed a glass for herself and filled it with a hefty measure of the whiskey.

Taking her eyes off him for a second was her mistake. In that moment, Jareth moved, heaving her toward the wall with one hand, until he had her pinned by the throat to the steel backing of the bar. Wickedly sharp talons sliced through the fingertips of his glove, to pierce the thin skin of her throat. "Is this what you wanted, demon? To taste the power of the bastard prodigal son?" he snarled, his voice low and deadly.

Maz gave him a sly smirk, flicking her tongue along her lower lip. "No…you're not my type. But if you want to feel the witch's thighs wrapped around you and know the heat of her, you'd do well to remember this form."

"And why should I take advice from you on how to bed the wench, if I even wanted to?"

"Because unlike you and Lucifer, _I_ can read her desires. The silly half-breed likes her men to be dangerous. Powerful. And… fair. So whatever you may think about the way she clings to Lucifer, he is not who she lusts after." Feeling Jareth's talons retract, dropping her to the floor, Maz ran her fingertip over a bleeding patch and sucked the blood from it. She slowly looked up at Jareth and purred.

Jareth's black eyes glittered evilly as he sneered down at her. "Why should I believe the word of a mere demon? I know you Maz. You like to make trouble. What do you get out of throwing the girl into my clutches, hmm? Are you hoping to wheedle your way back into my brother's bed?"

She shrugged and stood up, wiping blood from her neck. "Simple. I want to return home, but Lucifer keeps getting distracted by these mortals. I want you to pry the little witch from him and remove one more obstacle to our return home."

Turning, Jareth walked back toward the balcony, his form shifting and blending until his Aboveground glamour was once more in place. On the glass dance platform attached to the balcony, Lucifer was dancing with Aine` and the Puca`. As much as he hated the idea of his niece having anything to do with Lucifer, now that his brother was aware of her relationship to Persephone, Aine` was at least 'safe' from his more devilish advances. If the silly girl gave him any power over her, that was her own poor judgment – he was under no blood oath to protect her any further than he had.

The witch however, was another matter entirely.

His pale eyes narrowed, flickering golden as his predatory nature crept through. Slowly he scanned the dancers looking for the purple-haired witch. In the end, he supposed that 'why' she intrigued him was not as important as the mere fact that she did. Therefore the only way to relieve himself of this infatuation so that he could focus on the problem of Sarah, was to bed the wench. A glowing flash of purple in a dark corner by the large speakers caught his eye. Frowning he saw the witch, a faint purple aura shifting around her, as she attempted to remove herself from two drunk louts currently attempting to grind themselves against her. A possessive growl erupted from his chest at the sight, as one word seemed to echo in his head – 'Mine!'. Before he could stop to wonder at the sudden feeling of possessiveness, Jareth felt the telltale shiver of Underground magic trickle down his spine, at the very moment her aura flashed green and enveloped the drunk men accosting her.

When the green faded, his lips quirked in a smile at the look of utter frustration on her face. Whatever spell she had attempted with the Underground magic, it had not worked as she intended. Instead the drunken louts were now not only grinding against her body, but groping her.

' _How ironic. The one you want views you as a villain, and here you are with one that you lust after for no reason you can name, and she needs you to play the 'white knight',_ ' snarked his inner-self.

"Well she'll just have to make do with a dark knight instead," he growled under his breath, the heated coal of jealousy flaring to life within in him, sending an ethereal wind swirling around the owners suite, just as he vanished from sight.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Growling at the red-headed man who was groping her breath and breathing whiskey stench all over her, Sarah stomped on his foot, the force driving the spiked heel of her boot into the tender nerves of his instep. "I said…fuck off!" she shouted, as the red-head yelped and stumbled back from her. "Same…for…you!" she grunted, dropping her elbow down and slamming it back into the stomach of the man currently attempting frottage against her ass.

The man behind her gasped in pain as she knocked the wind out of him and spun away from the two of them, only to find her back slamming against something that felt suspiciously like steel, but smelled like midnight, summer storms and exotic spices.

' _Jareth!'_ screamed her libido, which then proceeded to melt into a gibbering puddle of want.

As a warm arm slid around her waist, Sarah tilted her head up and back to confirm what her libido and the rest of her body had already realized – she had indeed run into the Goblin King, who was currently looking down at her with a darkly amused smirk.

"Having trouble getting your magic to dispense with them for you, Precious?" he purred. "Sometimes brute force is the only thing louts like this can understand." A movement to his left caught Jareth's eye, as the red-head stepped forward, an angry sneer twisting his face.

"Back off. We saw her first!"

Even though she was unable to see Jareth's face fully in the dim corner of the club, Sarah felt his body seem to quiver with energy at the man's words. The arm around her waist tightened slightly, as he growled low in his throat.

"I believe the lady asked you to… 'fuck off'. Not particularly lady-like I admit, but the sentiment should be clear, even to an inebriated imbecile as yourself. So why don't you be a good boy and toddle off, now…before you find yourself taking on someone that I assure you, you can't defeat."

The other man stood next to his friend, his fists balling at his sides as he glared at Jareth. "It's two against one, dude."

Chuckling low in his chest, Jareth glanced down at the woman in his arms. "Two against one, hmm? Clearly they don't know who they are dealing with."

"That's easy, some fancy pants Pom who thinks he can poach what's ours."

Jareth felt the power around the witch flare once more as she snarled, tugging out of his embrace to step toward the men.

"I'm no man's property, buddy! I don't belong to you two morons…or to…to… _him_ ," she snapped, waving her hand toward Jareth. "No man has power over me and that is how it's going to stay!"

Amazed, Jareth watched the flash of green magic around her and felt the delicious zing of the Underground power washing over him. She might not be human, but Maz was right, she was definitely touched by Underground magic. Unfortunately for her, the show of power was not enough to deter the drunks, as they blinked vacantly at her. Stepping forward, until his chest was once more against her back, he reached around the witch and slid his right hand along the back of hers.

"If you are going to wield Underground magic, you have to learn to meld it with your human magic," he murmured in her ear, as his hand guided hers in a graceful twisting motion. "Try this. Feel for the magic thrumming inside you, then focus on your hand."

Sarah's heart thudded wildly in her chest at the sensation of his body pressed against hers and the heat of his words near her ear. Her libido gave an inarticulate and decidedly porcine squeal then fainted; while her inner-self babbled in a corner, completely unable to function with the heat of Jareth's body enveloping her. _'Focus?! How can I focus on anything with your body wrapped around me like this!'_ she screamed inwardly. Taking a deep breath she felt for the magic swirling inside her and managed to picture it coming through her arm to her hand, only to gasp with a small green orb appeared in her hand.

"There you go," the Goblin King purred, his free arm sliding around her left hip, until his fingers were splayed across her abdomen. "Now throw it at them."

Biting her lower lip, Sarah stared in shock at the glowing green orb, but made no move to throw it. "What will it do?" she whispered.

His lips lightly caressed the shell of her ear as he murmured softly, his words a sultry rumble that echoed in her head, " _Whatever_ you _want_. Crystal magic responds to the wishes and needs of the user – unless created as a gift for another. Not knowing the deepest, _darkest_ , desires of your heart, I can't say what it might do to them." Feeling her hesitate and the magic inside the crystal start to degrade, sliding back into her body, his fingers tightened over hers. "Let's throw it and see, just how _dark_ you are, little witch." When she didn't fight him, he guided her arm in a gentle throw, smiling when she released the orb of her own free will.

The verdant crystal shimmered briefly in the air before it burst over the heads of her attackers. For a split second they were there, staring blankly at the air where the org had been the moment before, then they were gone.

"Oh shit! Where'd they go?!" the purple-haired witch gasped, spinning to face him.

Glancing down at her panicked face, Jareth's arm automatically tightened around her lower back, drawing her closer to his chest. He chuckled quietly, pulling a crystal from the air until it balanced easily on the fingertips of his right hand. A slow smile teased his lips as the witch's gaze found the crystal, fascinated by the shimmering images within it. The images flickered and shifted before becoming clear – showing the two men trapped on large boulders set in the middle of the Bog of Eternal Stench. "Very interesting, little witch… and just how did they end up _there,_ I wonder?"

Torn between wanting to melt into his embrace and escape from it, Sarah was relieved to have something else to focus on than the firm feel of his chest against hers and the rigid heat of his pelvis against her own – the later being a more 'pressing' distraction. "I…Um… well I was thinking that they stunk of booze and…."

Jareth tilted his head, regarding her with interest. "And just _how_ do you know of my bog? Hmm?"

Gulping now, Sarah's mind raced, frantically trying to think of a lie that would be plausible enough to be believed. When none came to mind, she employed the only tactic she had left – the element of surprise.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth was torn. On the one hand he rather enjoyed the feel of the woman pressed against him, in fact she fit quite well against him, in all the best sorts of ways. The moment he had her in his arms, he felt an almost audible 'click' within him, as if something critical had just snapped into place; but he had no idea what was, or what it meant. But on the other hand, he was puzzled by the fact that she seemed to possess Underground magic. And while he recognized it as Underground in origin, it did not match the magical energy of any of the primary races, if anything it felt like the Labyrinth's magic – which was impossible for a another creature to possess, much less be able to manipulate.

Then there was the question of how she knew of his Bog. Only runners and the Labyrinth citizens knew of it. _'She isn't a runner. Only one has been returned Above during my reign,'_ he mused, watching the way her pulse thudded in her throat, while fighting the urge to run his tongue over the thin flesh so he might feel it.

 _How did she come to have Underground magic that tasted of the Labyrinth? How was she able to wield such power? What manner of creature was she that was mortal, but not quite? How did she know of his lands, when she was clearly not a runner? –_ his mind raced at the possibilities.

When it came to the witch in his arms, there were far more questions than answers.

Opening his mouth to question her further, he blinked in surprise when she suddenly raised her hands, raking her nails along the sides of his head in a seductive caress that made his groin tighten and his heart race. With her fingers twined in his glamoured Aboveground hair, she firmly tugged his head downward and captured his lips with hers. For the first time in over 400 years, the Goblin King was too stunned by a creature's actions to even react, his mind instead marveling at the silken feel of her lips on his, and the tender, yet hungry way she kissed him.

' _DO SOMETHING!'_ demanded his inner-self and libido with one voice, so he did the only thing he could – he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her flush against his chest. Turning toward the wall, he pinned her between the wall and his body, relishing the feel of her soft curves against him. Jareth growled into the kiss, pleased when she hooked one leg around his hip and pulled him closer to her heat, a needy whimper gurgling in her throat.

Shifting his body so the firm ridge of him could press against her more intimately, he gently but firmly tugged her head back, deepening the kiss. _'I hardly know her, yet she feels so familiar,'_ he mused, before the thought was chased away by the feel of her tongue sliding along his, fighting for a dominance he would never give. Two tongues teased against each other in a struggle with no winner. In all his years, Jareth had never met a woman who fought for control as hard as this one was – refusing to give him the slightest advantage or power.

' _If I don't get us out of her soon, I'll end up taking her right here – rutting like animals in heat,'_ he thought, wondering at the sudden desire between them.

In the next instant a tremor of magic twisted up his spine to lodge in his head, while the woman in his arms shivered violently and cried out, both in pleasure and pain.

"What the fuck?!" she gasped, breaking the kiss. Her breaths came in short pants, as she looked at him with wide purple-eyes that flickered with green.

"Want to fuck? Why yes…I do" he chuckled, then laughed as she thumped his chest with her fist.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it!"

Before he could answer, Jareth winced as the magical call raced through his body again, this time sending a jolt of pain up his spine. With a whimper the witch arched against him at the same time, clinging to him and shivering. Frowning he looked at her. Only the Goblin King should feel the call of a wisher. "That is a call for the Goblin King. A child is being wished way. Although why you should feel it is a mystery."

"Wished away, hah! You mean stolen," she muttered, pushing him away and straightening her top with a vicious tug on the material that threatened to snap the fine chains that held it around her neck.

"I don't _steal_ children, witch! I can only take that which is freely offered. You may know _some_ things about me, but I can see you haven't bothered to learn the _truth_ ," he snapped, his glamour fading away as the call grew stronger, taking his breath away. Fighting the pain in the base of his head, he had enough presence of mind to catch the witch, when she cried out, her knees giving way entirely. Wrapping his arm around her, the two of them shimmered briefly before disappearing.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Two sets of eyes looked up in surprise when Jareth appeared in the grotto with Sarah now in his arms, on the verge of fainting. Only Lucifer seemed completely nonplussed by their sudden appearance and the fact that Jareth was wearing black, embossed leather armor and a long leather cape, the inside of which seemed to shimmer and twist, until it seemed that one could see all of eternity within the inky blackness of it.

"See, I told you she was fine with him," Lucifer drawled, sipping from his champagne flute, his other arm casually around Aine`.

"Fine? Fine?! She's passed out in his arms! How the fuck is that 'fine'?" Aine` yelped.

Growling under his breath, Jareth laid the witch on the couch next to her friends and glared at Aine`. "That isn't my doing. Magical overload, I suspect. She was accosted by several drunks and I 'helped' her deal with them."

Lucifer's eyes glittered wickedly as he smirked. "Helped her, hmmm? Anything to have the little witch in your debt no doubt, eh brother?"

"Shut it, Lucifer," snarled Jareth, before cringing as another jolt of energy sizzled its way into his head.

Through narrowed eyes, Lucifer saw the way Jareth cringed and felt the surge of energy, at the same time that the witch gasped and cried out, grabbing her head in pain.

"Verrrrrrry, interesting," he murmured, casting a quizzical look at his brother.

Ignoring Lucifer, Jareth turned his gaze to the witch, who shivered once more. "We _will_ continue our little chat later, witch."

Despite her pain, she gave him a sultry grin, her purple-eyes flashing with defiance. "Chatting doesn't involve tongue… _Jareth._ "

"You started it."

"Did not."

"Did so," he growled, then leaned down and kissed her, before vanishing.

"Cheating bastard," she muttered, shutting her eyes and relaxing against the soft couch as the pain in her head faded away, completely oblivious to the stunned looks she was getting from Lucifer, Aine` and Sean.

* * *

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	3. Is It Hot In Here?

Ch. 3

In the wee hours of the morning, Jareth returned to LA, materializing in the darkened guest bedroom Lucifer reserved for him when he visited. Five hours. It had taken five hours for the silly boy to even figure out how to get into the Labyrinth. After dealing with the boy's little sister for that time, Jareth had a pretty good understanding of what motivated the boy – and honestly didn't blame him in the least for wishing her away. Two hours with the screaming, petulant, tantrum-throwing brat was enough to make the Goblin King want to throw himself in an oubliette, just so he could enjoy the blessed silence.

Still, while he felt sorry for the boy being saddled with the toddler, rules were rules and it was his job to honor them.

"If I had my way I'd send the girl back to torment her parents and keep the boy," he muttered to himself as he gave a vicious jerk upon the buckles holding his breastplate on. "I hope he makes it to the castle, because I'll never find a home for that horrible child and she'd be far worse as a goblin."

Sighing when the armor loosened, he pulled it over his head and dropped it on the over-stuffed chair in the corner of the room. He had hundreds of years experience dealing with children, and in five hours that obnoxious brat had exhausted him more than his month long 'Spring Break Bender' with Lucifer in Daytona during the late 70s. Yawning he kicked his boots off, then stumbled over to the bed, his eyes already on the verge of closing. Relieved to find the covers had been untucked for him, he slid between the silken sheets, not even bothering to take off the rest of his clothing – It wasn't the first time he'd slept in his clothes and he doubted it would be the last.

Immediately upon getting into the bed, Jareth felt his body finally relax and purred, relishing the scent of lavender which seemed to envelope him, before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Rolling onto her back, Sarah was only just awake enough to register that she was burning up. She vaguely remembered the coolness of the silk when Lucifer and Aine` dumped her in the bed, but now it felt like she was being strangled with burning snakes. Grumbling under her breath as she kicked the covers off, Sarah tried to unfasten her leather pants, but only succeeded in getting them partly over the curve of her ass before they got stuck. With a whimper of frustration she gave up on the pants and turned her attention to the chain that held her top on. Deftly she unfastened clasp at her neck, then gave a vicious tug, flinging the shirt off the foot of the bed. Free of the binding and scratchy fabric, she settled down again, pushing the silk sheet from her body and sprawling out. As she drifted off once more she muttered, "Fucking Jareth…I can still smell him all over me."

Within moments she was asleep.

In the wee hours of the morning, Sarah purred, breathing deep. The smell of spices and midnight rain filled Sarah's sense as she snuggled up, trying to recapture the delicious dream she had been having – a dream that featured a shirtless Jareth wielding a crop and strutting around in pants so tight she could practically see every vein and ridge of his remarkably 'royal' assets. Half-asleep, she purred, her hand idly stroking the firm pillow her head rested upon. "Hmm…. Jareth," she sighed.

Then her silk covered pillow moved.

"Sarah," mumbled a distinctly male and heavily accented voice, the sound reverberating through her head.

Sarah's eyes snapped open. In the dim pre-dawn light that filtered through a crack in the curtains she was able to focus upon a thin line of pale chest, with a rather distinctive horned medallion just barely visible beneath the edge of a silk shirt. An arm tightened around her back as the Goblin King smiled in his sleep and murmured her name again. "My Sarah."

With a squeak Sarah jerked away from where she had been snuggled up to Jareth's body – and where he had been happily cuddling her in his sleep.

Feeling movement, Jareth's eyes snapped open and he flung himself upright in the bed in a defensive position, a crystal in one hand and a wicked looking obsidian stiletto in the other. Expecting an attack, it took him a moment to realize that there was no attacker, just an extremely pissed off looking witch sitting on the other side of the bed. If looks could kill, he would have been dead twice over judging by the venom in her purple eyes. In his half-asleep state, it took the Goblin King a full two blinks before he registered that she was still wearing the delightfully tight leather pants from the night, only now they were unfastened and settled well below her hips affording him the briefest glimpse of ebony curls.

' _Hmm… she shaves,'_ his libido crowed, wondering just how _much_ she shaved, while his inner-self mused, _'Clearly the curtains don't match the drapes. At least now you know what color her hair is when it isn't purple.'_

Fascinated by the teasing sight of curls, it took him a further two blinks to realize that aside from her unfastened leather pants, she was otherwise naked. The rounded globes of her breasts drew his eyes, entranced by the faint hint of inked script that ran under her right breast, keeping him wondering what the words said.

"Why are you in my bed?" she hissed, her fists balled into the mussed sheets.

"Your Bed?! This is my bed!"

"But Lucifer said…."

"LUCIFER!" they shouted in unison.

A moment later the door was pulled open and Lucifer wandered lazily in pulling a deep red robe further around himself. His dark hair was disheveled and wild, as he surveyed the two people in the bed, his black eyes glinted mischievously. "Honestly you two. Do you need me to draw you pictures of how this is supposed to work? For starters you both need to be fully nude. Amethyst at least has a head start on that."

"Huh-wha?" Sarah muttered, then glanced down. An inarticulate banshee screetch that even Maz would envy echoed around the room. Snatching the sheet into her hands, she jerked it up against her chest, covering herself. "Jareth you bastard!"

"Save your venom, witch," Jareth snapped, his pale eyes glaring icily at her. "I had nothing to do with you being naked! And I sure as Hell wasn't here when you were put into **my** bed!"

"Nice piercings by the way," Lucifer purred. Peering around Lucifer's side, Aine` elbowed Lucifer in the ribs. Laughing he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. "Yours are cute too, darling."

Hearing the giggle from Aine`, Jareth arched an eyebrow at Lucifer. Sarah followed his gaze, blinking in shock.

"But…if you're Jareth's niece and he's _your_ brother that's…that's…."

"Not as bad as you might think, darling," Lucifer cooed, putting his arm around Aine` when she stepped forward, wearing nothing but a dark red men's dress shirt that looked suspiciously like the shirt Lucifer had been wearing earlier at the club.

Still glowering at Lucifer and Aine`, Jareth shook his head. "As much as it pains me to agree with him, he's right. Tracing the lineage between Fae, Nephilim and various pantheistic deities is rather complex. While Aine` is my sister's child and my niece, Lucifer and I are such distant cousins that Aine` is in no way a direct relation of his. The problem is less one of family lines and more one of her own poor judgement…and his."

Growling, Sarah remembered that she was in fact, not wearing a shirt and had given both Lucifer and Jareth a very good look at her 'assets'. "Who took my shirt off?"

Lucifer grinned and winked at her, his dark eyes glittering wickedly. "Not I. And Jareth can't actually lie to you, so if he says it wasn't him, you'd best believe it."

Sarah frowned, feeling a drop of sweat rolling down the center of her back. _'It's hot in here,'_ her inner-self moaned. At that thought a sensory memory filled her mind with the feeling of roasting alive and the struggle to take off her clothes. "I was hot…" she muttered.

"Indeed you are. Right, Jareth?" Lucifer purred. Aine` grumbled and elbowed him in the ribs once more, then giggled when he growled in her ear. "Jealous wench aren't you?"

Ignoring them, Sarah sighed. "No…I mean it is hot in here, so I must've taken it off myself." Sarah bristled at the vindicated look on Jareth's face.

Lucifer shrugged, "A side effect of being who I am, I'm afraid…heat seems to follow me whether I want it to or not. I even tried to make Hell freeze over once for fun and well… you should probably blame me for Global Warming. Sorry."

Jareth ignored Lucifer, his attention glued to the witch. Pinning her with a steely glare he growled, "I'm waiting for an apology witch."

Sarah's eyes narrowed as she glared back at him. "When Hell freezes over, Goblin King. Oh wait, Lucifer already tried that trick. Tough luck, _Your Majesty_."

Growling low in his throat, his eyes flickered to black. "You accused me falsely. Where I come from there are punishments for that sort of thing."

At the mention of punishments, Lucifer winked at Aine`, "Seems they've finally got the right idea, darling. While I'm all in favor of a bit of kinky fun, Jareth prefers not to have an audience for such frolics." Chuckling, he turned Aine` and spun her toward the door, smirking at Jareth. "Now then, since I am reasonably sure you and Amethyst don't need me to instruct you about how appendage D goes in slot V, I shall retire back to the delightfully naked and willing company in my own bed."

A low growl erupted from Jareth's chest. Glowering darkly at Lucifer, then Aine`, he shook his head. "You know, you'll pay for this little fling if word gets Underground."

"True. There are few beings that scare me more than Persephone and let's face it, she has a bit of an ax to grind where I am concerned – thanks to my brother. But that is a risk I'm willing to take."

"Your brother?" Sarah asked, looking at Jareth, the confusion she felt clearly written upon her face.

"Don't be silly, luv…not Jareth, but my actual brother – Hades." Lucifer swatted Aine's bum as she skittered out the door with a giggle. "I'll leave Jareth to school you on the twists and turns of our family tree once you two have worked out your 'issues' in more _pleasurable_ ways," he laughed, following Aine` from the room and pulling the door shut behind him.

Ignoring Lucifer's 'suggestion', Sarah huffed, her purple eyes narrowing irritably on the Goblin King. Jareth leaned casually back again the headboard of the large bed, one arm propped on his bent knee as he glared back at her. With a twist of his hand a crystal handled crop appeared in his hand. Lightly tapping his calf with the flat of the crop, he arched an eyebrow at her.

"A gentleman would go sleep on the couch."

A wry laugh accompanied the devious grin Jareth gave her. "Ahh…but as you've already noted tonight, I am a cad. So…. no. I think I'll sleep right here in _my_ bed." The witch growled, muttering under her breath as he chuckled. "You might as well take off the leather pants, luv… this room is always Hellishly hot when Lucifer is 'entertaining' in his bed." Seeing her clutch the sheet even tighter to her chest, he rolled his eyes, "Relax woman. I'm the Goblin King remember? If you know so much about me, then you are no doubt aware that I can only take that which is freely given. So unless you plan to ravish _me_ , your _virtue_ is safe."

"What makes you think my 'virtue' is still intact," she countered, giving him a challenging glare and dropping the sheet so that it pooled around her thighs, revealing not only the ivory fullness of her breasts, but the tantalizing glimpse of dark curls that transfixed him once again. Sarah watched as his eyes darkened to nearly black once more, his gaze drawn to her hips. Glancing down she realized why – a burning pool starting to swirl with need deep within her at the knowledge that the Goblin King wanted her. Sarah tossed her hair back, making her breasts jiggle in a way that demanded his gaze.

' _This is almost too easy,'_ she thought to herself, her eyes washing slowly over Jareth. Reaching his lap, she noticed the telltale bulge that seemed to 'flex' slightly as he looked at her. Her libido squealed, demanding to know just what he looked like nude – and for once Sarah's inner-self agreed. But Sarah herself had other ideas.

"So, how are you able to sit here so calmly while Lucifer beds your niece? Or is she like Lucifer and not really related to you by a direct blood line?"

Despite the geas that prevented him from ravishing the insolent witch, Jareth's inner-self and libido were both demanding that he do just that. It took all of his self-control to pull his eyes back up to meet hers. Forcing back the wave of desire that roared through him, he managed to chuckle, the sound low and throaty. "No, Aine` is my sister's third daughter. The baby of the family. And while it does pain me that Lucifer is doing _anything_ to one of my family, it is purely a strategic move on Aine's part."

Frowning, the witch looked at him, shaking her head. "Strategic? How?"

The Goblin King merely shrugged, still tapping the crop against his calf, in a way that drew the witch's eyes to the taut muscle. Smirking, he watched her watching him. "Once word gets to the Underground that Aine` has been bedded by The Morningstar…and believe me, she will make sure that words gets there… there will be no way her father can marry her off to the Lich King. Only a few kings would take on a Fae princess who was tainted by the dark in such a manner."

"The Unseelie?" the witch asked, sucking on her bottom lip with a pensive expression.

"Yes, an Unseelie king would take her without hesitation, but that is not the match her father wants for her. As a result, Aine` will likely get her wish and be left alone to live her life in the Above if she so wishes."

"What? She'll be disowned? Banished?" When Jareth nodded, Sarah gasped. "That's not fair!"

The witch's words made Jareth pause, the crop hanging in midair as his eyes narrowed upon her face, scrutinizing her. For Sarah the few seconds that he seemed to stare into her soul were agonizingly long. "I wonder what your basis for comparison is?" he found himself saying, his eyes glued to hers subconsciously looking for any flicker of recognition. When none came, he shrugged the feeling off, his crop once more tapping lightly upon his calf. "You can relax though, she is of my blood, so she will not be left homeless or bond-less. I am the King of the Unwanted, after all. She will always have a home in my kingdom and a place in my court." At the look of confusion on her face, Jareth chuckled low in his throat. "Ahh…So you don't know as much about the mighty Goblin King as you thought, did you witch?"

Crossing her arms petulantly across her bare chest, she glared at him, then shrugged. "Tales of the Goblin King tend to focus on your debauchery, not acts of compassion or caring."

Jareth tilted his head, giving her an owlish smirk. "I see, and have you ever bothered questioning your 'sources' for my more magnanimous deeds?"

Caught, the witch shook her head, her eyes falling to the bed between them as her thoughts raced.

' _He can be nice…who knew? This changes nothing. But he was nice. I was wrong about that. Am I wrong about other things….'_

Changing the topic, he chuckled, "So, as I suggested before, you might as well take the leather pants off and get comfortable, witch." He laughed when her head snapped up to look at him, daggers in her eyes. "You'll be cooler without them." Jareth gripped the hem of his silk shirt and pulled it over his head. Holding it out to her, he smiled. "Here. I assure you it will get far warmer in here before the night is through, …and silk is cooler than leather, believe me."

She looked from the Goblin King, to the cream colored silk shirt hanging from the tip of a gloved finger. Sarah had fantasized about being in bed with the Goblin King many times over the years, now here she was in his bed and seriously contemplating getting naked.

' _Danger! Danger!'_ shrieked her inner-self, until it was tackled by her libido and duct taped to a chair, with a ball gag wedged between its lips.

Reaching out, Sarah snatched the shirt from his fingers and viciously tugged it over her head. "The name is Amethyst," she grumbled, suppressing a groan as the silk slid coolly over her heated flesh.

"That is a lie, witch," he replied, watching her with an amused air. "The name likely relates to your obvious affinity for purple, but that is _not_ your real name."

"Well that is all you are getting from me, so you might as well get used to disappointment."

Shaking his head, he smirked, watching her try to wriggle out of her leather pants while laying on the bed and covered with the sheet. Although he could help her, for the moment it was far more enjoyable to watch her struggle, as each frustrated tug made her breasts bob inside his shirt, which teased her pierced nipples until they were clearly visible under the thin material. After several minutes, of her aggravated huffs and muttered curses, he laughed. "Would you like help, Precious?"

The pet name caught Sarah off-guard and she gawped at him, her body half-hidden by the sheet, one breast nearly exposed by the wide-V neckline of his shirt. "Oh no! I am not stupid enough to give you permission to touch me!"

"I never offered to touch you." Smirking he twirled a small blue crystal in his free hand. "I'm still angry about your false accusation against me. I was merely offering to assist you."

Struggling momentarily, she finally grumbled, "How?"

With a flick of his wrist the crystal flew up in to the air and burst. In that moment, Sarah felt the tight confines of the leather pants disappear from her body. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stretched out, then frowned. "Knickers? You put knickers on me?"

The look of confusion on his face made her libido and inner-self crow with delight.

"I assumed you would cry foul if I didn't give you 'proper' garments," he replied, his expression darkening defensively.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah wriggled under the sheet, pulling the knickers off. "I have purple hair and wear corsets as every day fashion. What makes you think I'm 'proper'?"

He blinked in surprise as she dropped the offending knickers in his lap, then he frowned. "But you made such a scene about being topless."

"That was because I thought you did it without my consent." Ignoring his stunned look, Sarah fluffed up her pillow and flopped back down, curling one arm under her head as she looked at him.

In all his many years, Jareth had never been around a woman who managed to infuriate him and set him off-balance as often as the witch now lounging in his bed. _'She lays there as if it is her spot,_ ' he mused watching the way she relaxed into the soft down of the mattress, the taut nipples still pressing against the light material of his shirt.

"So now what?" she asked, giving him a smile that was at once innocent and far too worldly. Seeing the fire burning dark in his eyes, she felt a quiver of fear slither into the pit of her stomach. It was a dangerous game she was playing, with a very dangerous being. Although he could not 'technically' take anything that wasn't offered to him, the Fae had a well-deserved reputation for finding loopholes and twisting one's words.

The Goblin King regarded her for a long moment, his gaze intense as his eyes shifted until they were nearly black. There was a hunger in his expression that made her stomach flutter and her insides clench with want, her body demanding to respond to the feral need visible in his posture and eyes. Sarah battled the demands of her libido to throw herself at him and ravage him, hoping to be ravaged in return. And just when she had managed to quell the burning desire within her own body, he spoke and set it off once more.

"Well, now I suppose we do the sensible thing and sleep together," he purred as he stood, his slender gloved fingers falling to the fastening of his trousers, pushing them lower upon his hips. An inarticulate squeak was all Sarah managed to get out, before he had pushed his trousers down the rest of the way, the sight him entirely nude taking her breath and any ability to think, much less speak, away. "Ah, I see there are no objections?" he chuckled and slid into bed with her. Adjusting the sheet over himself, Jareth rolled toward her, his lips twitching at the surprised look still on her face. "Goodnight witch. Sweet dreams as the mortals say," he added shutting his eyes.

Sleep eluded Sarah for some time, her mind playing the sight of his nude form over and over on an endless loop, while her libido and inner-self stared transfixed at it. Somewhere deep in her mind, she knew that taunting Jareth with his desires was a bad idea, and now here she was in bed with the naked Goblin King.

There was no way on Heaven or Earth this could end well.

* * *

**Note:** _Yes, this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but this was just the natural stopping point for this thread of the story. Sorry it has taken me so long to update, but the muse does what it wants and for the last two months my muse seemed to want to play video games and knit (stress at work tends to make her go on holiday). She finally seems to have returned so I'll be writing like a mad-woman until she abandons me once more. And so it goes... :)_

**As always, please review...I love to hear what you think about Jareth and Lucifer in this one *lol***


	4. No Control

Sarah was torn. She wasn't sure if she should be pleasantly surprised or insulted by Jareth's actions. Sure, she was surprised by the fact that Jareth had kept his word – despite the fact that he was completely (and gloriously) naked, he hadn't made so much as a suggestive comment after getting in bed. In fact the only sound he had made for the last four hours was just the occasional soft snuffling sound of a sleeping male. At the same time, she was incredibly irritated by the insult of the thing. Here she was, in bed with the (deliciously nude and incredibly well built) Goblin King, while wearing nothing but his shirt – and the cad hadn't made so much as made a lewd comment. Not even a hint of a perverse suggestion.

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo!

After several hours, she finally dozed off; but that turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing considering the nature of her dreams. It wasn't the first time she had enjoyed an explicit dream about the Goblin King, but this was the first time she had multiple micro-dreams about him, back-to-back, while laying right next to him. After the fourth dream in which she found herself pinned under him as he drove deeply into her, making her arch and scream his name with pleasure, she woke up panting and shuddering from a full body orgasm. Gasping, with her heart still racing erratically, she turned toward Jareth, terrified she had cried out in her sleep. Gulping, Sarah's heart stuttered in her chest again at the sight of the Goblin King, laying on his back, one arm thrown up above his head, as the other rested across his chest. A slow, wavering sigh slipped past her lips when she saw that he was sleeping peacefully.

With relief rushing through her, she took her time looking him over, a flush of heat rising to her cheeks at what she saw. The silken sheets were draped low around his waist, barely hiding his rather sizeable 'assets'. Feeling a warm drip slide from within her, teasing hotly along the still tingling folds, Sarah bit her lip.

'Escape! Flee! For the love of all that's holy…get…away!' screamed the warning claxon in her head – and for once Sarah thought listening to it would be the best course of action.

Holding her breath, she slowly rolled to the side and slipped off the bed, freezing as Jareth stirred slightly on the bed. For several long seconds she forgot how to breathe, waiting to see if he had noticed her departure. When nothing happened, she shivered, taking a quivering breath that made the silk of Jareth's shirt caress her body in ways reminiscent of his hands in her dream. Shaking her head, she moaned softly trying to push the memory away, as she peered around the dimly lit room. 'Pants… pants…where the fuck are my pants?' she thought frantically, as she crept around the bed, keenly aware that she was walking around nearly naked in a room with a sleeping Goblin King – who was definitely naked. 'This is soooo not good. Gotta find pants. Find shirt. And get the hell out of here.'

As she walked past the armchair, she felt the cool smoothness of leather and sighed, picking them up.

"Is there a reason you are fondling my breastplate? I assure you, my chest is far more receptive of such treatment."

Gasping, Sarah looked up to find Jareth lounging on the bed looking at her with a wickedly mischievous glint in his eyes. As he propped his head up on his hand, his hair fluttered softly, teasing his arm in a way that made Sarah long to feel the soft strands teasing her own skin. Reflexively clutching the breastplate to her chest, Sarah squeaked softly, his sultry smirk set her heart thudding wildly. "I…I just… was looking for my pants." A sleekly arched eyebrow rose in response, as he regarded her. Sarah gulped, the combination of stern authority and leonine sensuality threatening to overwhelm her.

"Sneaking out? How rude. And after I shared my bed and my shirt with you."

Growling, Sarah dropped the breastplate back on the chair and continued creeping around the bed looking for her clothes. "Hah hah…unlike you, Goblin King, some of us actually have to work for a living," she grumbled, snatching her pants from the back of another chair. "Now where the Hell is my shirt."

Jareth leaned over the side of the bed and plucked the shimmery silver material from where it had landed half-under the ornate structure. Catching the movement from the corner of her eye, Sarah glared at him, then blushed as he dangled the thin material from the tip of his finger – a finger of his bare hand. Gulping she fought to tear her eyes away from the sight of his bare hand. The movement had not only succeeded in unearthing her shirt, but the sheet had fallen lower around his hips, revealing the sculpted 'v' of muscle low on his abdomen.

"Oh, off to peddle your poppets and potions to the gullible populace, then are you?"

Sarah harrumphed, snatching the shirt from his fingertips. "For your information, Mr. High and Mighty, I'm due at a lab meeting in….shit… twenty minutes." Scrambling toward the bathroom, her foot twisted into the dangling bed-sheet as she neared it, sending her crashing to the floor and dragging the sheet to the floor with her. "Some gentleman you are," she mumbled, as Jareth laughed at the sigh. Growling, she pushed herself upward only to find herself inches away from Jareth's now naked body.

'Holy shit! His tights didn't do it justice!' screamed her libido, before fainting. Sarah's face burned hotly as she realized that his assets were far more impressive up close than they had seemed when encased in his customary tight pants. Forcing herself to look at his face, Sarah instantly regretted that decision, when she saw his knowing leer.

"Last night you got upset when I was acting a gentleman and clothed you appropriately, therefore I assumed you'd prefer a cad. However, to make it up to you…." He purred, then waved his hand above his head. In an instant, an ornate golden clock appeared. Jareth glanced at the clock and twirled his finger counterclockwise, the clock hands swirling backward two hours. "There… a peace offering."

Pushing herself away from the bed and getting up, Sarah muttered to herself, "I hate it when you do that."

"What… did you say?" Jareth gave her a thoughtful look, his mismatched eyes narrowing under steeply arched eyebrows

Playing off her hasty words, Sarah shrugged and clutched her clothing to her body, as she moved away from him toward the bathroom. "I suppose when you're immortal, time means nothing."

"Not 'nothing' per se, but we don't place as much importance upon it as you humans do. Humans have such quaint theories of time, but none come close enough to the truth," Jareth mused, slowly twirling a small pyramid of shimmering crystals in his hand. Seeing Sarah stop and open her mouth to question him, he chuckled, the sound a deliciously sultry purr deep within his chest. "And don't bother asking me to tell you that particular secret of the universe so you can make a lovely name for yourself in your field. You'll have to do the hard work yourself, Precious."

Sarah's mouth snapped shut with an audible click, as her green eyes smouldered with irritation. "Pompous Fae. What makes you think I haven't already come up with a theory for things. I have some knowledge of your kind and plane of existence after all."

Tilting his head, Jareth's eyes sparkled with mirth. 'She has fire,' he mused. 'I bet she'd be a hellion in bed.'

"Well then, don't keep me in suspense. Do tell me how time really works, darling," Jareth said, carefully rearranging the crystals in his hand so that they seemed to twirl in a double-helix pattern.

Watching him, Sarah smiled. "Actually, while many theories of time say that it is elastic, and such, I think it is more like… this," she replied, plucking the top-most crystal from the moving stack as Jareth twirled it upon the palm of his hand. "Time is always moving, but not always in the same direction," she added, gently slipping the crystal back into the middle of the stack without disturbing the movement of the other crystals. "While humans may only be aware of the time flow in their own sphere, it is possible, with the right means, to change our position in time, if you can find the right point where the time flows…intersect." Smiling Sarah plucked a bottom crystal out of the stack, only to slip it back into the middle, without causing the slightest pause or tremor of the stack.

"Impressive," Jareth murmured, giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head. "Very close to an accurate description of things. Sad that there is no way you can prove it and secure your name within the field of theoretical physics."

"Give me time. I've already got a plan to prove that magic exists," Sarah muttered, stooping to pluck her knickers from the floor. "Not that I can show it to anyone at the university – they'd have me committed for even suggesting that matter can be created from nothing more than energy."

Jareth's eyebrows curved upward as he looked at her, then his lips curled in a slow smile. "Interesting. I should very much like to hear how you would prove such a thing."

"Hah! Well my notes are at the lab, and since you won't be getting into my lab, you'll just have to live with the curiosity." With her hand on the knob of the bathroom door, Sarah turned and pointed at Jareth. "Thanks for the extra two hours. I'm going to clean up and get dressed, then get out of your hair. I'm sure you'll need plenty of time to fluff it up. Just do me a favor and resist your usual pervy instincts."

Spinning a crystal over the back of his hand, Jareth didn't even bother to look up at her. "Perish the thought, witch. I've already seen all of you I'd care to just now. Lovely though you may be, I've got better things to attend to this morning."

Sarah pursed her lips, the insult needling her just as she was sure he intended. "Just as well…sit… stay…. And while you're at it, keep Lucifer out as well."

"What do you think I am?" the Goblin King snapped, bristling at the insult to his station. "A guard dog?"

"If the collar fits…."

In the blink of an eye, Sarah found herself pinned to the bathroom door by a very naked Goblin King, his eyes blazing hotly as they bore into her. She gulped, then registered two things at once, the massive wave of heat pouring off his nude body, and the presence of his bare hand around her throat. While his touch was light, she felt its presence keenly, her entire body trembling with a desire she didn't know she was capable of.

"I promise, witch…" he growled, dipping his head until his lips were a mere hairsbreadth from hers, making her gasp, then moan softly. "You would relish my collar in ways you can't even begin to imagine, woman. I could make you bark for my touch, if I wanted to."

Without warning, the image of being collared in his bed, with him on top of her flooded her mind, sending another shuddering moan past her lips. Hearing the moan and seeing the glazed look in her eyes, Jareth chuckled darkly and reached behind her. Grasping the doorknob, he opened it with a flourish that sent her stumbling backward, only to see him close it just as quickly.

"Fucking Fae, bastard…." Sarah muttered, rubbing her sore bum.

"Believe me, witch… when I'm 'fucking' you…you'll know it…" whispered the phantom voice of the Goblin King, the sound of his laughter echoing from outside the bathroom making Sarah shiver.

~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~

Lounging in the back seat of the grey limo, Jareth twirled three crystals easily over his hands, his pale eyes flickering grey as he gazed out the window at the Hollywood scenery flying past. Outwardly, he looked as any powerful executive might look in this town of falsehoods and fakery. His dark grey suit was immaculately cut to frame his body, the very sheen of the fabric giving off an air of power. His features were glamoured to appear more 'normal' to mortal eyes, even his hair was shortened dramatically, standing short and casually spiky over his head – a style he personally disliked, but found that the women of this time and place favored.

Despite the fact that he could easily have his pick of any of the women he met in L.A., Jareth had no interest in any of them. No, when it came to women, there were only two that interested him – and the second was something of a surprise to him.

His thoughts were torn between memories of Sarah and the niggling feeling that there was more to the purple-haired witch than he first suspected. Sarah's innocence and determination still intrigued him, particularly the way she stood up to him, even when she was cowering in fear inside. Yet, the witch Amethyst intrigued him as well – she wasn't as innocent, but she was determined in her own way and showed little fear of him, which was refreshing. Amongst the Fae he was both revered and feared, which in and of itself pleased him, but made any form of relationship impossible to sustain. Sure, he had no problem finding a willing bed-warmer, but any female who became too 'familiar' with him, seemed to think they could rule him, as if he were just some silly, love-struck fop of the court. More than one found themselves becoming intimately familiar with the lower dungeons of the castle for making such an error. The trick, as far as he could tell, was finding a woman with enough fire to match him, but enough sense to know that she would never be the power 'behind the throne'.

Sarah may have been young when he encountered her, but Jareth, being both Fae and Nephilim could feel it in the threads of time that she would only become more determined and enchanting as she matured. With Sarah on his mind, he glanced down at the shimmering crystal still spinning in his hand, unsurprised to see that it was filled with swirling purple mist – the same thing happened every time he had tried to scry for Sarah since her return home.

Six words.

That was all it took to effectively block her from him – indefinitely.

The knowledge of it still stung, despite the passage of time both in the mortal realm and his own. With a sigh, Jareth set the crystals spinning once more, his eyes absently looking out the window as his mind turned to the purple-haired witch. Despite the fact that he had felt no desire for another woman since Sarah returned above, something in Amethyst stirred the urge in him. This puzzled him greatly. 'Perhaps it is her possession of Labyrinthian magic,' he mused. Never had he known any being save himself, who possessed Labyrinthine magic. While Lucifer was curious as to what Amethyst was since she was not a pure mortal, Jareth had no such questions, because he was reasonably sure that what she was, was less important than why – and he was quite sure that the 'why' was the Labyrinth magic that coursed through her. 'She's new to her magic though. If she had possessed it for any length of time, she would either have learned to control it or destroyed herself.'

Frowning slightly, Jareth shook his head. Although he had no true feelings for the woman other than the heat of desire to have her in his bed, he had no real wish to see her destroy herself with untested and unmastered magical power. 'She'll have to be taught control at the very least,' he mused, absently letting a crystal float upward, until it spun in front of him, the purple mist swirling lazily inside it.

His frown deepened.

"Show me Amethyst," he demanded of the crystal. Still the mist remained, dancing lackadaisically within the shimmering sphere. A low growl rumbled in his throat, as a flare of irritation burst to life inside him. "How is she blocking me? Do all women that possess the power to intrigue me, also have the power to block themselves from me?!"

As the car pulled to a stop at one of the infernal stoplights that dotted the mortal roadway, the Goblin King glanced up, then smiled seeing a familiar, garishly painted building. "Pull into the parking area for that shop, Balen. We're making an unscheduled stop before my meeting."

The glamoured hobgoblin driving the car inclined his head slightly, his orange eyes flicking to the rearview mirror in acknowledgement of his Master's request. "Yes, Sire." As bidden, Balen pulled the car into the parking lot next to the garishly colored building, his nose wrinkling up in distaste.

Seeing the look on Balen's face, Jareth chuckled. "You are of the Labyrinth, Balen. You should know that things are not always as they appear. The woman who runs this quaint little eyesore of a shop, is actually a witch with some affinity for fortune-telling. Wait here. I will be back shortly." Before Balen could even nod, Jareth unfolded himself from his seat and made his way to the door of the shop. Pushing it open, the small glass chimes above the door filled the air with a pleasant tinkling sound.

"Good morning. May I help you find something?" asked a petite woman, with a scarlet pixie cut.

Coming out from behind the counter, the diminutive woman smiled warmly at him, pushing her oversize glasses up her nose. His grey eyes looked her up and down, before casting a small tendril of his magic toward her. He smirked inwardly when she gasped as the wisp of magic curled inside her, finding a small well of pixie magic within her. 'That explains her size,' he thought to himself, then recalled his magic, watching as she shivered when it left her.

"Wow… I didn't realize the air conditioning blasted this spot," she muttered, moving several steps to her left to avoid the 'draft' she felt from his magic. "Now then…was there something I could help you with, Sir?"

Fingering a purple crystal vial on a counter display, Jareth gave a wickedly charming smile and nodded. "As a matter of fact there is something I require…."

~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~

Sarah was stumped. She had been staring at the formula on the white board of her lab for what felt like days. Each time she looked at it, she felt the glorious tickle in her chest that always heralded a breakthrough in her research – but this time she was stumped. The electrons in the formula just wouldn't do as she needed them to do, but she was sure, she was close. But every time she started to see how the formula should change, her train of thought would jump the tracks and go careening on a wild ride to 'Naked –Jareth-Land'. Her libido wasn't helping matters by insisting that riding Jareth would be very wild indeed.

"Arrrgh!" Sarah cried in out, throwing the whiteboard marker at the whiteboard, after what felt like the millionth time she caught herself thinking about Jareth's rather 'generous' assets.

'I have been generous, Sarah…I can be cruel,' her mind whispered in his voice.

"Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!"

"I haven't said anything yet, but if that is the mood you're in, you're going to really happy about my news," muttered lab-mate Melanie, rushing through the lab door and toward the tiny closet marked with an eye-searing neon orange biohazard symbol. "I ran into Dean Marshall on my way back from teaching my 11 o'clock. He was headed this way with someone very handsome and very important looking. And Patrick caught me on my way into the building The handsome guy is a potential donor , who is particularly interested in your work."

Preoccupied staring at the white board, Sarah sighed and ran a hand through her hair, leaving faint streaks of pink whiteboard marker ink on her forehead and cheek. "Yes…I know it won't work. I'm missing two protons and I'm not sure where they went. They are here. I just know it. I just have to find them." Sarah was so distracted that she was only partially aware when Melanie pulled her cozy cardigan from her arms, tossing it onto a chair, then drew a button-down shirt up Sarah's arms.

Trying not to fumble, Melanie worked to button the shirt. "It's wrinkled, but it's still better than your geek t-shirt," she muttered, quickly folding the collar under Sarah's hair. With Sarah still focused on the whiteboard, Melanie grumbled and started tugging a black blazer up Sarah's arms, brushing pink fluff from Sarah's favourite scarf from the sleeves.

"Mel…what are you doing? We don't have a faculty meeting scheduled." Grumbling, Sarah brushed Melanie's hands away and starting to shrug out of the blazer.

Melanie slapped Sarah's hands away, trying to artfully loop the fluffy pink and purple scarf around Sarah's neck, even as the purple-haired physicist tried to turn away. "Damnit Sarah Jane! You haven't been listening to a word I've said have you?! The Dean is on his way here to see you…with a rich donor!"

This time Sarah heard her.

"What? Here?!" she squeaked, her voice cracking as, her violet eyes frantically flitted around the messy lab. "Crap! There's no time to tidy up."

"I'm on it. Disaster plan Alpha!" Melanie yelled, running toward a group of lab benches at the back of the lab, as Patrick burst through the door. "Alpha action plan," she called to him.

Not even stopping to acknowledge the girls, Patrick threw open the closet door and started tossing bags and books into it willy-nilly. "Got it! And it's about time…Marshall and the donor got held up in the front office by Professor Scott. So we've got about 5 minutes before they'll be able to get free," he said, grabbing Sarah's tatty cardigan and throwing it into the closet on top of the pile of miscellaneous items, before slamming the door shut.

Coming along behind him, Melanie began opening bench drawers and shoving papers into them. "Fire up the laser, that always impresses donors – especially those that have no clue how to understand the theoretical stuff."

"On it," Sarah shouted, darting toward the laser platform mounted along the far wall of the lab. While the others rushed about the lab shoving things in drawers, Sarah began flipping switches to trigger the start-up sequence for her baby – the magnetic proton laser. A soft hum began around her as the laser warmed-up.

Patrick peered out the window then ran for the door. "Donor and Dean heading up the walk. I'm outta here. Good luck. May the force be with you!"

"And also with you," both girls laughed, still frantically shoving items into drawers and cabinets.

With the lab now 'tidied', Sarah bent over, picking up the pink whiteboard marker from where it had landed beneath a sketch she had done years ago of what she thought of as 'Jareth's Escher Room'. Glancing wistfully at the picture, she sighed. "Time to look busy, official, intelligent…."

"And worthy of having rich dudes give you wads of cash to fund your research," added Melanie, before ducking through the door to her adjoining office. "Good luck, hon. Give me a shout when the big-whig is gone."

Taking a deep breath to center herself, Sarah tried to focus on the laser and her lab, knowing the donor would likely ask a bunch of questions regarding how her research would help mankind – they all did that at some point. 'Everyone wants to save the world,' she thought, looking at the whiteboard and finally seeing where one of the missing protons should be. Leaning forward, she started to adjust the formula, erasing a section and rewriting it. 'Or they just want the formula for endless energy so they can capitalize on it and make yet more money,' she thought bitterly. Hearing footsteps in the hall, she felt her heart race, a strange feeling akin to stage fright settled over her. 'I hate this shit.'

Oddly enough, between rushing around to tidy the lab and the case of nerves that had descended upon her, Sarah found for the first time since she had woken up, that thinking about Jareth's naked body was not high on her focus list.

Then the lab door opened.

"Ahh, Dr. Walsh… I'm glad we caught you in your lab," purred the Dean. Sarah cringed at the oily tone that he always trotted out with important donors who had obscene amounts of money for to use for university endowments. Sighing she added the final figure to the formula, then capped the pink marker. "Mr. Brenin…this is Dr. Sarah Jane Walsh, our most promising physics post doc. Dr. Walsh, this is Mr. Brenin…."

Turning around Sarah looked up, and immediately dropped the marker on the floor once more, a loud buzzing sound filling her ears as the world seemed to swim around her.

Standing just inside the door of her lab was Dean Marshall, his bald head glinting in the harsh fluorescent lights, while he gave her a fake 'warm' smile that clearly said – 'Fail to impress him and I'll make your life a living hell. There are worse labs than this decrepit pit of despair.' Despite the clear threat from the Dean, it was the figure next to him that made her wish for the floor to open up and swallow her. The man's hair might be short and spiky, and his eyebrows might look more 'normal', but there was no mistaking the upright figure in the sleek grey suit.

The Goblin King. In her lab.

If Sarah didn't know that Lucifer had already tried to make Hell freeze over, she'd think that he'd actually succeeded.

Seeing the stunned look on Sarah's face, the dean frowned. It was bad enough that she was wearing jeans and a wrinkled shirt when he needed her to impress an important potential donor, but the way she was gawping at the man was a definite problem. "Are you all right, Dr. Walsh?"

Numb, Sarah nodded, her mind flying in multiple directions at once. Part of her was intensely glad she had thought to change her name trying desperately to get her voice to work and failing. Finally she managed a small murmur, "Fine…I'm fine. We…we've already met."

"Oh? That is fortunate. Where did you meet?"

Jareth's lips curled into a supercilious smirk. 'Sarah Jane…figures she'd be another Sarah. Am I to be cursed with them for the rest of my days?!' he thought bitterly, even as he nodded to Dean Marshall. "It's okay, Dean Marshall, Miss… Sarah Jane and I met recently at a clu…."

"Umm… at a social function," Sarah cut in, trying not to snatch her marker from his fingers, when she really wanted to fling it at his smug face.

The Dean smiled broadly, no doubt already counting the many dollars he hoped Mr. Brenin would donate to the university. "Well then, I'll leave you two to renew your acquaintance. Mr. Brenin was particularly interested in your new work on energy and matter, Dr. Walsh." Nodding briefly at Mr. Brenin, Dean Marshall left the room, unaware of the visual war going on behind his back, as Sarah and Jareth squared off.

The very moment lab door clicked shut, Sarah threw the marker straight at the arrogant smirk on the Goblin King's face. Dismissively Jareth waved his hand and the marker flew toward the whiteboard and neatly deposited itself upon the metal railing.

"Really…is that any way to treat a potential, and very generous donor?"

"You! What the Hell are you doing here?!" Sarah demanded, turning away from him and picking up the marker once more. Uncapping it she ignored him and tried to recapture the brainstorm she had been on the verge of when the Dean arrived.

With a casual air, Jareth slowly strolled around the lab, picking random bottles of reagent and reading the labels, before carefully replacing them. Sarah fought hard to focus, while her mind kept wondering at the silence from the Goblin King as he inspected her lab. Working his way back toward the whiteboard, Jareth leaned against a lab bench and surveyed the sprawling formula that covered the wall sized whiteboard.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Sarah snarled, slamming the marker into the tray and turning toward him. "WHY are you here, Jareth? Don't you have a baby to steal or something?!"

Ignoring her outburst, Jareth gestured toward the board. "You're missing a proton, you know. And the sub-equation in part two has an error in it – that's where your proton should be."

"I…huh…wha?" Sarah muttered, deflating a bit as she turned to look at the board again. The moment she did, she felt a firm and very warm body pressed against her back, and an elegant arm reached over her shoulder. Gloved fingers pointed at a section of the whiteboard, where the pink formula was surrounded by bright orange marker.

"See… right there. The sigma should be an alpha, and you left off the subscript formula, which gives you 7, thereby accounting for the missing proton," he purred in her ear, chuckling at the tremor that went through her. "And as to why I am here, I am here to see your work. Just as the Dean said." Moving back toward the lab bench, he leaned against it once more, watching her with an amused air. "I have money to donate – if I am suitably impressed by your research, of course. Impress me enough, and I may just decide to fund you well enough to establish your own lab. Enough money, little witch, or should I say Sarah Jane…. That you would no longer be beholden to the university to approve your ideas."

Sarah blinked, looking at the whiteboard, then slowly peered over her shoulder at the Goblin King. "I…you…you'd do that?" Seeing him nod, she frowned slightly, her lavender eyes narrowing as she turned around, dropping into a nearby rolling chair. "Why? What's the catch?"

"No catch."

Her frown deepened. "Hah. I didn't just come down in the last rain storm. I know that the Fae don't just grant boons like that without a reason – and that reason is generally because they expect something in return. What's your agenda, Goblin King?"

The Goblin King's pale eyes flickered deep blue, looking her over, then looking back at her whiteboard, his smile slowly growing broader. She was a challenge. And the fact that she didn't trust him was a testament to her intelligence. "Someone needs to bring you mortals to a higher plane of understanding and quite frankly, based merely on the work I see on your board here, and I think you have the best hope of doing that."

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, and sat back in her chair, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "No tricks. Complete truth?"

"As Lucifer so astutely reminded you in the wee hours of this morning, I can't actually lie to you, witch. It's against the rules, so to speak. Oh…I may bend the truth until it screams for mercy, but I cannot lie." Harrumphing, Jareth rolled his eyes. "Why must you always cast me as a villain Sarah?"

Feeling her blood run cold at his use of her real name, Sarah fought to control the panic welling up inside her until he shook his head, his expression darkening a bit as he regarded her. Recovering, she shrugged and glared at him. "Well, when you're cousin-brother-whatever…buddies, with the Prince of Darkness, what do you expect?"

A wave of irritation burned in Jareth at his own slip up, allowing him to ignore her jibe. 'Get hold of yourself man! True, there are two too many Sarah's in your life, but this is not the Sarah who spurned you,' he berated himself, while giving Amethyst a sly, searching look. "So…Sarah Jane. Or Amethyst. Who are you really…Hmm?"

Tossing her head, the purple-eyed witch stood up and grabbed a green marker from the tray. With harsh movements she uncapped it, then snatched up an eraser, swiftly removing the error from her equation and correcting it – per Jareth's advice. As much as she hated to admit it, she was surprised. Aside from her PhD advisor at Stanford, no one else ever seemed to truly understand her work to the level of being able to correct it. While she was impressed that he knew enough to spot the error, when she herself had been wrestling with the missing protons for the last two weeks, the very fact that he could correct her work infuriated her deeply.

"Only family and superiors call me Sarah Jane – and you, Goblin King, are neither."

Jareth chuckled at her show of spirit. "Well, since I was the one to spot your missing proton and the error in your work, I'd say that makes me…."

Growling she capped the marker and tossed it into the tray with a loud clattering sound that echoed dully in the lab. "No. You aren't. You got lucky."

Jareth tilted his head in that decidedly owl-like way that both thrilled and annoyed her, his eyes flickering gold before shifting back to their usual pale blue-grey. "No. I didn't. If you check your work, I think you'll find that particular formula is one you built on; one which was originally published by another academic in the early 1930s." Leaning toward her, his smirk grew. "Me…in point of fact."

"You…what?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide as she sunk into the worn sofa against the wall near the whiteboard. "You…no…that paper was written in…"

"1932. At the University of Scotland," he added with a satisfied smirk.

Sarah felt as if her brain would melt at this information – it was really too much to handle all at once. Rubbing her forehead, she peeked at him. "So you were what? A professor?"

Jareth, a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Something like that, yes. As you know from Aine`, my kind reach a certain age and seek the Above for a season or so, to learn about mortals and experience 'life' in a different way. Most spend a relatively short time here, as they find it parochial and stifling to have their powers bound. In contrast I found it freeing to have no other obligations but to engage my mind, which is what I have done for a period during each of the centuries of your kind. In the 20th century, my sabbatical coincided with the precursors to your 'Great War' – knowing the strife that was to come, it made sense for me to use my interest in science to meet my own ends…while potentially having a positive impact upon your race."

Sarah pursed her lips, running a restless hand through her hair. "Isn't it against the rules to interfere with other races or species?"

"You're thinking of Star Trek's 'Prime Directive, darling," Jareth chuckled, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"Fuck!" Sarah moaned, rubbing her eyes again. "I can't believe that the Goblin King is quoting Star Trek to me. Am I dead? Have I had a stroke?" Looking up suddenly, she glared at him, pointing a painted nail in his direction. "Hang on, that formula was a key starting point for the Manhattan Project!"

Jareth sighed, his supercilious smirk fading. A faint flicker of sadness shone briefly in his eyes, before they turned hard and cold. "Yes. I have few regrets in my dealings with humans, but that is perhaps the biggest. I had hoped for the formula to be used to create a weapon that would essentially destroy matter – so it could be used to 'delete' the weapons of Axis forces. Unfortunately, your scientists, most notably those associated with the Manhattan Project, took my formula and used it to destroy matter in a completely different manner. As Lucifer frequently laments – free will is a bitch," he added, his hand slipping into the pocket of his suit jacket. Slender fingers curled around the cool angles of the purple-crystal vial.

Sarah nodded, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her work was a derivative of Jareth's work, whose work indirectly led to the development of nuclear weapons. "So, the offer of funding or a donation to the university then?"

Chuckling, Jareth smiled at her. "Ahh… spoken like a true researcher bound in the chains of the academic servitude." Her purple eyes narrowed tightly upon him, lips pursed in an irritated line. "It's okay, Ameythyst. I am not offended by the bluntness. As to your question, my offer is genuine. How generous I am prepared to be…well that remains to be seen, or more precisely…negotiated."

"Negotiated? Hang on…you said no tricks. No agenda. No…no…expectations!"

A sly smile curled the ends of Jareth's lips, "The money is, as you human's say, offered with 'no-strings-attached'. The amount however depends upon you."

"Me?" Sarah's blood coursed through her hotly as her libido squealed with delight and demanded that she offer him anything – everything.

Before she could reply and tell him what she really thought him and his money, the lab door opened and Dean Marshall. Glancing up at him, Sarah groaned inwardly, the look of hopeful greed in his eyes made him look as if she should be running his hands together gleefully at the sight of the two of them talking. "Oh good…I do hope you have had a good visit. Isn't her work amazing?" the Dean said to Jareth.

"Yes, it is. She is a quite a gifted physicist and has done some excellent work building off the research of my great-grandfather," Jareth replied, his blue-grey eyes sparkling mischievously at purple-haired witch, delighted by the angry twitch of her jaw.

The Dean's grin broadened almost sickeningly at that. "Oh really? What an amazing coincidence. How wonderful."

Biting back a growl, Sarah could just imagine how the Dean would spin that little tidbit when it came to publicizing the donation. Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when the Dean actually clapped his hands and beamed at her.

"Excellent, then it is settled. Dr. Walsh will accompany you to your event tonight so that you can continue discussing her research."

"I…wait…what?" she muttered, pulled from her musing by his words and confused by the decidedly greedy grin on the Dean's face, and the smug smirk on Jareth's.

"Perfect," Jareth chuckled, his eyes alight by perplexed look on the witch's face. "I shall pick you here at 7 o'clock tonight." Turning he followed the Dean toward the door. "

Finally breaking free of her paralysis, Sarah hoped up and rushed toward the door, grabbing the arm of Jareth's grey suit jacket. "Wait…what…Jareth, why are you picking me up tonight?"

Poking his head back in the door, the Goblin King's eyes darkened as he purred, "Why, you are accompanying me a charity dinner tonight. It's black-tie, so do dress accordingly, pet. Oh… and we can continue our negotiations to see just how generous I will be with your funding. So, start thinking about what you are willing to offer in exchange for such generosity."

Then the door shut behind him, leaving Sarah alone in the empty lab, still wondering how she managed to get volunteered to go on a date with the Goblin King.

~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~

The remainder of the day was a blur. An hour later as she was slumped on the sofa trying to explain the 'date' to Melanie, the Dean's secretary came in with a note from the Dean. Opening it, Sarah stared blankly at it, then handed it silently to Melanie.

"Bloody Hell," Melanie whistled, while Sarah glowered at the hapless secretary. "He's authorized you to use your departmental credit card for up to a $1000 to prepare for tonight?! Fuck! The last time I asked for $200 to go to a conference, he told me there was no money for such an extravagance."

"It's unethical. It's…it's…the equivalent of academic whoring," growled Sarah. "The asshole is basically pimping me out to secure a donation."

Melanie gawped at her as the secretary practically fled from the room. Picking up the letter again, she gave Sarah a filthy grin. "Well, there is nothing saying you can't lead him on. You used to do acting, so find your way into the part. Buy the dress. Buy the shoes. Hell, splurge on a new hairdo and make-up. Flirt a bit, dance a bit. Then once he's promised the donation, go home."

Frowning, Sarah considered Melanie's suggestion, then shook her head. "I've met Mr. Brenin before. I don't think he'd be taken in by mere teasing and empty promises."

"Well, he was sexy as Hell. Surely you could…."

"Melanie! You can't be suggesting….you know I don't do that sort of thing." Balling up the note, Sarah tossed it in the trash bin next to the lab bench. "I'll go buy a dress and such, but I'm not sleeping with him." As soon as the words left her lips, her libido howled in dismay, demanding to know how bad it would be to sleep with Jareth just once, if it meant securing enough funding for her lab that the university would effectively have no power over her or her research any longer.

In the end, she had to admit that going shopping with a decent budget had been fun. She and Melanie spent two hours at a dress shop near Rodeo Drive searching for the right dress, finally settling on a black floor length sequined sheath, with a slit up to her thigh. Much to Sarah's surprise, Melanie was not only a talented astrophysicist, but also an excellent sale shopper. Within three hours Sarah had a dress fit for the red carpet and a pair of Manolo Blahnik's that would make any red carpet diva drool. Another two hours saw her with a new dye job of variegated purples, silver and black, the effect of which was stunning when her hair was twisted up into an elaborate, geisha-esque hair style. She even splurged and had an aesthetician do her make-up for her. All in all, as much as she might hate to admit it, she looked good.

But she wasn't stupid.

There was no way she was going anywhere with the Goblin King without adequate protection against his magic. Pulling into the parking lot of her shop, Sarah jerked up on the emergency brake viciously, then hopped out of the car, a small black fringed and sequined handbag dangling from her wrist. The chimes on the door jangled harshly as she pulled it open and raced inside, surprising Jeannie, the small red-headed pixie who was staffing the shop. Startled, Jeannie smiled wide-eyed at her.

"Amethyst…Wow…you look gorgeous. But aren't you a bit over-dressed to run the shop?"

"I'm not staying. I've got a… 'date' of sorts," Sarah said, the word threatening to choke her before she could speak it. "I just stopped in for a few things."

Jeannie grabbed her small purse and nodded. "Look, I'm starving. Can you watch things for ten minutes so I can run across to In-and-Out to get some dinner?"

Smiling, Sarah nodded, waving her hand at the door. "Go ahead. I've got a few minutes before I need to head out again. Go get some food."

"Thanks soooo much!" Jeannie chirped and ran out the door, the chimes above the door clattering and clanking in her haste.

Sarah was relieved when the door swung shut, leaving her alone in the shop. Dropping her evening bag on the counter, she tugged open a drawer behind the counter and began to rifle through the amulet and pouches inside. Grabbing an iron triskellion amulet, she tucked it down the front of her dress, then thinking better of it, added a second one for good measure. "That should keep him from getting too handsy," she muttered to herself, pushing around the contents of the drawer and picking up a small black pouch. Turning she looked through the small display of crystal potion vials on the counter. "Hmm… truth… love…lust…oh Hell no. Where is it," she grumbled, finally plucking a red vial from the rack. "Ahh… here we go." As she was slipping the items into her bag, she hear the merry chime of the door and grinned, turning to the door to greet Jeannie, only to drop her bag back on the counter, her purple eyes wide, seeing Lucifer strolling into the shop dressed in a full black tuxedo with a blood red tie and pocket square.

"Oh good…I was hoping you would be here," he purred, giving her a broad grin.

Growling, Sarah opened her bag and shoved the items back into it. "Look, I don't have time to put up with your nonsense tonight, Lucifer. Your bloody brother…cousin…whatever… conned my boss into volunteering me to be his date for the night," she spat, shoving her wallet into the glittery black handbag. "I'm only here to pick up some… 'protection'…."

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. "Condoms won't work on one of his ilk…"

"Condoms?!…ewww! I wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last Fae…nephiliim…whatever he is on Earth or any of the other seven realms!"

"Well technically, you did last night…" Lucifer replied, running his fingers through a basket of pouches and amulets, clearly looking for something.

Huffing, Sarah glared at him, the amulets in her dress making it far easier to ignore the aura of intense sensuality he exuded. "Shut up, Morningstar…. Did you actually want to purchase something or are you just here to make my life more miserable than it already is?"

"Actually, I did want to avail myself of your wares. More specifically, I'd like to see what you have in a love or lust potion."

Sarah's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she looked at him. "Why? With your Lord of Darkness whammy power, don't you just have to be in the room for people to lust after you?"

"You'd think that, wouldn't you. Why? Is it working on you?" he asked, his eyes lighting up almost hopefully.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah shook her head. "Nope. I'd sooner fall back into bed with Jareth than throw myself at you." Seeing his face fall slightly, a wicked grin tuggeds at the corner of her dark purple lips. "What? Has the Master of Hell lost his touch?"

Lucifer shrugged, plucking imaginary fluff from the arm of his suit coat. "What? No, no, no… of course not. Enough people still bend to my 'suggestions'. You don't because you are protecting yourself somehow…"

Sarah laughed, then nodded. "That's just smart business considering my usual clientele."

"True," he agrees. "Which is why I am here. There is this mortal of my acquaintance who is remarkably immune by my 'influence'. I'd like a potion in order to test whether any powers will work on her, or whether it is just mine she is immune to."

Sarah frowned, pursing her lips. "I'm not sure I want to sell you anything of the sort. What happened to your Father's insistence upon free will?"

"Intent, darling." Lucifer smirked, his black eyes glittering merrily at her. "With mortal witch magic, the power is in the intent, so technically it is your intent that went into creating the spell. Since I didn't create the spell, I am merely using it, it is not my intent and therefore…"

"…You aren't the one interfering with her free will – assuming that the mortal in question is female," Sarah sighed, then grumbled. "Loopholes. Bloody immortals and their bloody loopholes. And in this case it is a Damned Immortal and his damned loophole."

"Don't blame me, darling…blame my Father. Honestly, he has quite a lot to answer for."

"Well I'm not going to be a party to this. It's the equivalent of emotional rape and I won't get involved. So get out, Lucifer," Sarah snapped, the air around her sizzling with green sparks.

"Temper temper, little witch." Lucifer backing up a step from the unstable Labyrinthine magic shimmering around the purple-eyed witch. "Perhaps spending the evening with my brother could be useful. He really needs to school you in controlling your magic."

"My what?" she asked, confused. Looking around puzzled, she seemed to deflate a bit, the magic evaporating. "Oh yeah…that."

"Yes… that." Arching an eyebrow, Lucifer chuckled darkly as he stepped closer again, surveying her. She was always unusually attractive, but tonight she looked stunning, and it wasn't just the sequined dress – the magic was doing something more to her. "Very interesting little witch. I for one would love to know how a quasi-mortal such as yourself ended up with that amount of Labyrinthine magic."

"Quasi? What the hell are you talking about, Lucifer."

Lucifer gave her an incredulous look, his laugh a baritone purr that seemed to tease inside her head. "What? You mean you don't know? You aren't 100% human, little witch. And more puzzling is the fact that neither Jareth nor myself caught that fact when we first encountered you. It was Maz who saw you for what you are, or rather what you aren't… of course, even she isn't sure just what you are, but it isn't purely human."

Sarah's face blanched, as she collapsed in the cushioned chair by the shawl covered table. "I'm not… human? But… how…."

Tilting his head, Lucifer gave her a calculating look. "If I had to guess, I'd say it happened whenever you stole that power coursing through you."

"I didn't steal anything!"

Lucifer shook his head, his eyes glittering darkly. "Ahh…yes…you did - otherwise you'd know how to wield it properly."

Sarah frowned, slamming her purse down on the table. "I…no….No, I didn't. Maybe the Labyrinth gave it to me? Did you consider that?!"

"No, I didn't, because that would be unprecedented," Lucifer scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at the very idea.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Sarah snapped, "It only takes one negative result to disprove a 'law', no matter how immutable you think it is. Until you can prove that the Labyrinth didn't give me the power, you can't claim that it is impossible for such a thing to happen. Besides, isn't Jareth the expert on the Labyrinth?"

Much to her surprise, Lucifer laughed. "Expert? Hardly. The Labyrinth puts up with him, more than anything. It is a being unto itself and does as it will. So, I suppose it would be possible for it to have granted you power, but that begs the question of when you encountered the heart of the creature and why it felt that you should be granted such a boon, when even Jareth has only limited access to her power – and he's at least immortal and her 'ruler' – as much as anyone can rule her," he mused, then added as an afterthought. "Typical female really."

Groaning, Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "This is really starting to give me a headache. The Labyrinth is sentient. And female. And Jareth is her King…but doesn't actually rule her."

Lucifer leaned casually against the cash register and nodded. "That about sums things up, darling. Now about that love potion."

"No, Lucifer."

Pouting momentarily, Lucifer suddenly perked up. "How about if I promised not to use it on my mortal, but on Jareth instead? You have to admit, he needs to get laid. Unless you'd be willing to take him on…."

"Out! Get…out!" Sarah shouted, standing up from table and shooing him from the shop. "It's bad enough that my boss is encouraging me to do that…I'm not going to take it from you too!"

"Honestly, darling! Is that any way to treat a paying customer?" Lucifer cooed, still stepping back from the angry witch, as another cascade of green sparks filled the air around her.

Growling, Sarah snatched up one of the small purple filled vials on the counter and threw it at his head. "GET OUT!"

Lucifer snatched the vial out of the air and looked at it. "This isn't a love potion or a lust potion. What good will this do?"

Sarah grabbed the sleeve of Lucifer's suit jacket and bodily dragged him toward the door. "All you want to do is test whether she is immune to any influence or just yours. It's a truth spell. That is as close to a love potion as I'm going to give you. Put it in her drink or on her food and she'll act upon her personal truth. That's as much of a loophole as I will give you to tamper with her free will," she snapped, letting go of his sleeve long enough to jerk the front door open, setting the wind-chimes above the door clanging discordantly. "Since she is immune to your powers of persuasion, I suspect that for her to tell the truth would be within her very nature, so it's not actually interfering."

Lucifer looked at the vial, then at the witch, a slow grin twisting his lips. "Well, I had rather hoped to have her throwing herself at me, but I can work with this. Now…how about the lust potion for Jareth. He really needs to blow off some steam." Seeing the fury growing in Sarah and the green sparks zapping through the air, he backed through the open door with his vial in hand. "What about a love potion? Something to help him along with this Sarah girl."

"GET OUT!" Sarah roared. The small shop seemed to shake on its foundation, as the walls wobbled, and items all around the shop shook on their shelves. Tinkling and chiming filled the air, as bottles and trinkets knocked together. Then the front door slammed in Lucifer's face, locking him outside.

Blinking at finding himself so handily removed in the midst of a localized, magically-induced earthquake, Lucifer pursed his lips in thought. "Hmm… maybe she needs to get laid instead," he mused, looking at the two small purple vials now in his hand - One marked with a handwritten script reading 'Verum', the other saying 'Libidine'. Picking up the one marked Libidine, Lucifer rolled it across his fingers where it vanished. "Who says mortal magic is useless? Houdini may have been shit at clarvoiyance, but his slight of hand was second to none." Chuckling, Lucifer rolled the other vial across his hand, nodding when it too disappeared from sight. "And he was an excellent teacher."


	5. And So She Flees

The faint glow of colored lights filtered through the tinted windows of the dark grey sedan as it cruised through the streets of LA heading toward the university campus. In the back seat, a blonde head rested back against the set, the hint of steep eyebrows framing the shut eyes of the Goblin King. Reaching into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out a small crystal vial and looked at it, contemplating his next move.

Sarah… Sarah Jane….

In his mind it was becoming more and more difficult to separate the way the witch intrigued him, from his feelings for Sarah. He knew they were different, but being unable to see Sarah since she left his kingdom, were they really that different? ' _It would be so easy to simply treat her as I would Sarah,'_ he sighed, rolling the crystal vial across his gloved fingers with practiced ease. ' _To have_ _ **a**_   _Sarah…feisty and firey… even if she is not the_ _ **right**_ _Sarah.'_

Holding the crystal up to the light, he tilted it, watching the pale pink liquid slide down the carved inside of the vial. Verata. Truth. Over the years he had learned a fair bit about human witch magic, their potions, poppets and spells, but there was one question he had now, that he had no answer for. "Will a spell created by a witch and used upon them by another, work?"he mused, tilting the crystal vial and watching the pale lights of the streets reflect upon the shimmering surface.

Balen looked up from the road, catching his king's eye in the rear view mirror, his silver eyes flashing with the colored lights of the LA street. "What was that Your Majesty?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Balen," Jareth replied, rolling the vial across his fingers once more. ' _Nothing…nothing tra-la-la…'_

It was a point of honour with Jareth that unlike his cousin, and in fact many of their kind, he had never enthralled or enchanted anyone of any race – male or female – into his bed. And he wasn't about to start now, no matter how much Lucifer tried to convince him that it was justified. Reaching into his pocket, Jareth pulled out a second vial with purple liquid shimmering inside it. Passionis. Passion. He couldn't deny that he wanted her; the thought of having her spread naked on his bed, her purple hair cascading over the black silk sheets was an image he wanted to savor in the flesh. And he could feel the desire on her when they sparred verbally, but something was holding her back.

"Perhaps just a little…nudge is all she needs?" he mused, pausing once more to look at the shimmering pink oil in the other vial. Looking at the fine script of the label, he ran his finger over the pink wax holding the stopper in the vial. While he could not and would not take the unwilling, she was already willing, even if she was not yet ready to act on her desires. "A little nudge…surely that wouldn't be so wrong? But how to give it to her? The oils must be ingested." Smiling, he pulled a glove from his hand then popped the cork from the vial. Covering the opening with his finger, he tilted the liquid against the pad of his finger, then ran the shimmering oil over his lips, the smell of roses and vanilla wafting around him.

"If a kiss worked for Prince Charming, then a kiss should work for the Goblin King – in theory at least," he chuckled, looking at the CalTech Physics lab building as the car pulled to a stop. "And there is nothing a theoretical physicist loves more than testing theories."

***~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~ J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~***

Click…click…click…click…stomp…. Sarah sighed, before turning and starting back toward the other side of the lab. "It's bad enough that I've got to go on this farce of a date. I can't believe I had to deal with Lucifer and his under-handed scheme as well," she muttered.

Click…click…click…click…stomp…. "He's an ass…they both are." Click…click…click…click… Turning once more, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. With a frown she stopped, adjusting one of the tendrils of carefully sprayed and pinned curls that now cascaded over her bare shoulders. "I don't even look like myself. Ugh… I hate feeling like I'm playing dress up, just to get money. I'm just another academic whore." Stomp…stomp…click-click-click-click-click-click…STOMP-STOMP. "It's not fair!"

"Oh really? I wonder what your basis for comparison is?"

Whipping around, Sarah felt her face flush at sight of the Goblin King leaning casually in the doorway of her lab, a supercilious smirk curling the corners of his mouth. As much as she'd like to deny the allure of him, it was impossible to ignore it, especially when he was the dressed like the epitome of suit porn - his body encased in a perfectly tailored, double-breasted black suit, which had a faint sheen to it hinting of silk. His hair was carefully styled, short and spiked across the top, but somehow elegant to suit his bearing. ' _Damn him… Why must he be a walking porn ad?'_ Tossing her head, she picked up the beaded purse from her desk and looked at the clock on the wall. "You're late."

"I do so beg your pardon,  _Sarah Jane_ ," Jareth purred, giving a brief, but graceful bow. His pale eyes glittered slyly, as he regarded her appearance – and found himself to be pleasantly surprised. Gone were the corsets, and lashings of lace or velvet, replaced with an elegant black sequined sheath dress which gave her a mystique that would have been appropriate for the Goblin Queen at any Underground function. ' _Where the seven Hells did that come from?!'_ he thought irritably, even as his smile broadened and he purred to the stunning witch, "And really, it isn't fair that you should look so lovely and here I am, woefully underdressed to be accompanying you."

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes as she stalked across the lab. "Underdressed? Maybe according to your usual frilly and far too tight fashion, but for your information, Armani suits are perfectly acceptable for most charity functions in L.A." – ' _And you look damn find in it too, bastard,'_  she added inwardly. It was true. Most other men would have looked like the suit was wearing them, Jareth however looked and moved as if the suit was merely an extension of his already intense sensuality.

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth tilted his head and looked at her, his tone quiet, but the demand evident in his voice. "And just how would you know what my usual fashion would be, hmm?"

Sarah shrugged and fiddled with the catch on her bag. "Undergrounders talk and your wardrobe is a favourite topic of derision and ridicule."

Placing a gloved hand placed upon his heart, Jareth gave a mock gasp. "Oh, Precious…how you wound me with your harsh words." Just as quickly his demeanor changed. He stepped toward her, his pale eyes shining wickedly. "I suppose I could comment on your usual mode of dress – geek t-shirts, jeans and rumbled men's shirts, but that would be rude."

Sarah glared at him, then sighed. "Touche`. Look…since you roped me into this farce of a… _date_ …" she paused and took a breath, as if trying to rid herself of bitter taste that word had left in her mouth. "We should at least  _try_  to get along to keep up appearances."

"Agreed. Although to be honest, it is you who is being waspish and cruel, little witch. I merely complimented you on how lovely you are this evening. Although, I admit to being surprised. I did not think being a postdoctoral researcher paid well enough to afford a designer dress and shoes."

Blushing a bit, Sarah glanced down at the red sole of her shoes, then shrugged. "Apparently, to be successful as an academic and financial pimp, the Dean felt it was worth giving me enough money to dress the part."

"Academic whoring?" Jareth chuckled, tapping a finger upon his lower lip as he grinned hungrily at her. "I've not had that experience yet. I've had monarchs attempt to pimp out their daughters, courtesans…and even a few wives to try and secure an alliance with me, but this… this is new."

Sarah stood up straighter, her violet eyes narrowing on the smug smirk on Jareth's face, her fingers curling against her thigh in an attempt to resist the urge to smack it off. "Don't get any ideas, Goblin King! This is all for show."

Laughing softly, Jareth cocked his head and smiled. "Why must you insist upon forgetting what I have already told you – if you come to my bed, it will be willingly, witch. Unlike Lucifer, I have no desire to enthrall my conquests and I  _never_  pay for intimate company. There is no need, I have plenty of willing conquests."

"Conquests?!" Sarah spluttered, stabbing a glittery purple fingernail into the middle of Jareth's chest. "I'll have you know that I will  _not_  be one of your many 'conquests! So you can just forget about that right now. This is purely a business arrangement. I am going on this ridiculous 'date' so that the Dean thinks I'm doing my job and trying to part you from your money. AND…I expect you to keep your word and discuss your promise to fund my lab. THAT. IS. ALL!"

Giving a slight bow, his hand upon his heart, Jareth purred, "Your terms are acceptable, Sarah Jane." When he rose, a shimmering crystal was resting lightly on his palm, the surface seeming to swirl with faint shadows of pink and purple. Smiling, he offered it to her.

"Oh, what? Going to show me my dreams now?" she snapped, her lips pulling into a terse line. "I'm not some gullible girl running your Labyrinth, Goblin King. I'm not going to fall for it." … ' _Or you,'_  she added inwardly.

"First, there is nothing to fall for. When used in the Labyrinth, it is no trick, witch. It is a legitimate offer for the runner. An exchange, if you will. They leave the child and get their dreams. Quite simple really. It is just the completion of the exchange that began when they wished that the child be taken in the first place – but I digress." Nodding at the crystal in his hand, he continued. "This, is merely… a gift. As I recall, Aboveground it is customary to bring one's female companion for the evening a gift, is it not?"

Sarah's purple eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I know better than to accept gifts from the Fae, Goblin King. What's the catch?"

Rolling his eyes, Jareth twirled the crystal from sitting in his palm to balancing lightly upon two gloved fingertips. "No catch. No strings. And, as I've stated before… no lies. This is merely a simple gift, for a lovely woman."

Still uneasy about the thought of accepting anything from the Goblin King, Sarah weighed her options. "And I suppose it would be rude to refuse a gift offered freely?"

Jareth's pale eyes sparkled as he nodded. "Most assuredly. Wars have been fought over such offenses. And surely you know that to refuse a freely offered gift from a Fae can lead to all kinds of  _misfortune_."

Frowning again, Sarah glared at him. "Is that a threat, Goblin King?!"

"Oh just take the gift already, woman! You are far too easy to tease," he laughed, holding the crystal toward her once more.

Reluctantly she reached out, hesitating briefly, before she shut her eyes tight and grasped the crystal. Hearing his amused chuckle she opened her eyes.

Tilting his head and watching her, Jareth smirked. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, Goblin King. A one-way trip to the Bog or an oubliette. Being dropped into the lower tunnels with the Cleaners. It's really hard to say with you."

Jareth growled inwardly, his patience wearing thin at her refusal to believe his words. "It's  _Jareth_. And I have told you repeatedly, Sarah…Jane, I am  _not_ the villain here. I have assured you that I cannot lie to you, yet you insist upon believing the worst of me. It's…"

"…not fair," Sarah muttered, an odd pang of regret lancing through her at his words. "I'm…I'm sorry about that…Jareth."

Hearing those words from her lips, Jareth felt a disconcerting wave of déjà` vu wash over him. "Wait a moment… how do you know of the Cleaners?"

Shrugging, Sarah looked at shifting skin of the crystal. "Goblins talk…." Slowly turning her hand over to hold the delicate crystal on her palm, Sarah gasped as it transformed into a deep purple rose. Looking up at him, she smiled. "Wow…it's beautiful. I've never seen one that color."

His feeling of unease at her words forgotten, Jareth gave a pleased nod. "Of course you wouldn't. It's from my private garden. My gardener, Hoggle is actually quite gifted with cultivating roses. This is one of his most lovely creations."

Sarah gently ran her fingers over the velvety softness of the purple petals, then lifted the rose to her nose, inhaling the sweet and slightly spicy scent. "It's gorgeous. What is it called?"

Ignoring the sharp sense of loss and longing the name of the rose always evoked for him, Jareth locked his smile in place and answered. "He named it 'Sarah's Smile'. While you are not the Sarah it was created in honor of, I thought that the color made it an appropriate choice for you."

It was all Sarah could do not to cry knowing that her friend had created a rose and named it after her. Gulping, she forced down the lump in her throat and smiled at Jareth. "I love it…Than…."

At the sound of the words about to fall from her lips, Jareth's hand shot out, his gloved fingertips pressing firmly against the dark purple-red pout. "Don't. Say.  _Those._  Words." Sarah's eyes widened at the sudden stern tone of his words. "You  _know_  words have power in my world and for my people, witch," he continued, his words clearly an order, yet oddly gentle.

Reaching up, Sarah lightly grasped his wrist, shivering slightly at the strange feel of touching him in such a way. She pulled his fingers from her lips and nodded, still surprised by the oddly stern, yet caring action. "I…forgot that warning. Ho… a hobgoblin told me that once, " she stammered, nearly giving away her association with Hoggle. "But I always wondered, why it was so bad?"

"When one of my ilk gives a gift freely, it is just that… free. You accept the gift and that is the end of the transaction. However the minute you say…  _those words_ … you reframe the gift as an 'exchange' which sets up the expectation of…."

"Repayment," Sarah gasped, gripping the rose tightly, then wincing as an errant thorn pricked her finger.

Jareth watched her, his eyes darkening as she brought the finger to her lips and sucked on it. Shaking his head, he nodded. "Yes, reciprocation. And in my world, once those words are said, you initiate a magical contract that must be fulfilled. Should I ask you for  _anything_  you would be compelled to give it to me. It could be something as simple as a request for you to pass the salt at a meal, or… well… I'll leave other options to your imagination." Seeing the crimson stain spread from her cheeks to the gentle swell of her breasts, Jareth was quite sure that her imagination was more than willing to run with the little prompt he had given her.

Caressing the velvety petals of the rose, Sarah looked at it a moment, then peered at him, her expression thoughtful. "You could have taken advantage of my carelessness and let me initiate the contract, then you could have asked for… anything you wanted." Silently, Jareth nodded, watching her with interest, as if he could see the threads she was pulling together inside her mind. "Why? Why would you give up a loophole like that? I mean, Fae are known for twisting things to their advantage. And that would've been a Helluva advantage."

No sound came from Jareth as he pulled the grey glove from his right hand, then reached out and took her hand in his. Without a word, he ran his bare fingertip over the small wound from the thorn. A faint glow illuminated their fingers, sending a pulsing tingle through Sarah's finger and up her arm. Releasing her hand, he replaced his glove, smoothing the fabric over his slender fingers. "I may be cruel, but I can be generous, Sarah. Do not paint me as a fairytale villain."

Sarah glanced from Jareth, to the otherworldly rose in her hand. "Things aren't always as they seem," she murmured.

"So, shall we make an accord?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"I'm listening."

"I won't treat you like an academic whore this evening, and you… you will stop treating me as if I am some fairy tale villain. Would that be fair?"

Fine pearl teeth nibbled at her lower lip, as Sarah considered the implication of what he was offering. Words had power, he had already reminded her of that. And while his suggestion seemed straight-forward enough, but there was always the risk of a loophole. The Fae were notorious for them. Worrying her lip a moment longer, Sarah finally nodded laying her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Agreed…Jareth."

An odd thrill went through Jareth at the sound of his name rolling from her tongue. Even as she bristled easily at his jibes, the purple-haired witch seemed to be thawing toward him, which he found strangely satisfying. ' _If only the real Sarah would warm up to me as the witch is,'_ he mused, while escorting Sarah Jane out of the lab to the dark grey sedan parked in front of the building. It had been years since he had escorted a female who intrigued him as much as this one. ' _Too bad this isn't an Underground ball, she would put the usual courtesans and throne-seekers to shame with her beauty and feisty nature. If I can't have my Sarah perhaps Sarah Jane would….'_ he thought, then shook his head, an irritated growl building inside him until he pushed it down. ' _I must stop thinking that way about either of them. Sarah Williams is not 'mine' and Sara Jane Walsh isn't either."_

For Sarah, being on Jareth's arm once again gave her an oddly pleasant sense of déjà`vu. The last time she was on his arm, she was too naïve to understand the sensuality of his very presence, this time she was aware of it, even though the amulets secreted on her body kept her from being overpowered by it. Gripping her handbag, she could feel the crystal vial secreted within. She wasn't sure what his motives were, but she was going to make sure she found out before she agreed to anything regarding the donation to her lab. ' _Still… it's been years since I've had the chance to dress up and go out. Maybe tonight won't be so bad after all.'_

***~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~ J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~***

Pulling up to the Disney Concert Hall, Sarah blinked in awe at the line of limousines, armored SUVs, and Hum-vee's that slowly pulled up to a stop at the red carpet leading to the main entrance. "Wow. When you said it was a charity event, I probably should have asked what kind."

Chuckling quietly, Jareth watched his companion's reaction. "Yes, you should have. For all  _you_  knew, it could have been a fundraiser in the Underground." He laughed outright as her head whipped toward him, her eyes darkly suspicious. "Relax, while you are clearly connected to the Underground in some way, I have no intention to take you there by coercion or force – I couldn't even if I wanted to. Unless you' care to wish yourself away to me?"

Sarah sat back in her seat, turning toward the window as the car crept forward. "Not on your life, Goblin King." Outside the safety of the grey sedan, the glitterati of Hollywood stepped from their cars in sparkling dresses and sleek suits, hulking bodyguards flanking them as they began their way up the red carpet. Shaking her head in, she watched as stars of movies and television got out of their cars amidst the retina searing flashes of the paparazzi, then cringed a wave of misery rushing through her at the thought of having to trapse up the long scarlet carpet. Jareth's darkly erotic scene surrounded her as he leaned forward, the heat of his chest pressed against her back making her heart thunder in her chest.

"Why the look of sheer terror, Precious?" he purred, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine, and goosebumps racing up and down her arms.

Gulping, Sarah's mind raced trying sort out her feelings about the red carpet they would soon be stepping out onto, and the very masculine and sensual specimen of Fae sexuality now pressed against her bare back. "I… I didn't know there'd be a… red carpet." Giving voice to the reality somehow made it all the more intimidating. Sarah felt her heart start to thud wildly in her breast, the sensation intensified by the feel of Jareth's breath once more brushing against her ear. For a brief second she could have sworn his lips lightly caressed her ear. ' _No way. Jareth wouldn't do that. Don't be ridiculous!'_ she scolded herself as he murmured softly in her ear.

"Relax, you'll be fine little witch. You look lovely, like you are born to walk the red-carpet on my arm. In fact, I can't remember the last time I was escorting such a beautiful creature."

Sarah felt another shiver run down her spine at the reassuringly gentle, but undeniably sensual tone of his voice, then nodded as the sedan pulled up at the carpet. "Our turn," he said, gracefully stepping out the moment his driver Balen opened the door. Reaching back toward her, Jareth offered her a gloved hand. "Trust me, Sarah…Jane…." He said, cursing himself for wanting to call her simply 'Sarah'.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah picked up her handbag and placed her hand in his, a small gasp sliding past her lips at the feel of magic that slid up her arm at the touch. The moment her foot met the red carpet at the curb, she heard the rapid fire 'pops' of the camera flashes, and had to focus on Jareth's steadying hand not to be blinded by the bright lights surrounding them. Feeling his fingers gently squeeze hers and guide her from the safe confines of the car, she felt her breath catch in her throat at the intense look he gave her as he lifted her hand to his lips. His lips brushed softly across her knuckles, before tucking her hand into crook of his arm and leading her up the red carpet. Once they were up the steps and away from the paparazzi that lined the lower pathway, Sarah finally released the breath she had been holding. "Running the gauntlet of photographers is really rather… disturbing," she muttered, her words greeted with a gentle pat of her hand by Jareth.

"Vanity, thy name is Hollywood," he chuckled.

"Oh really? And here I thought  _your_  picture illustrated vanity in the dictionary."

Smirking, Jareth winked at her. "Clearly it is not just your eyes that can be cruel, but your sharp tongue as well."

Sarah tossed her head, giving Jareth a wicked smile. "Oh, my tongue can be remarkably gentle…when properly motivated."

Without warning Jareth's arm slid around her back, pulling her tight against his side and posing while a group of photographers near the entrance snapped photos. As he leaned toward her ear, several of them called out, the quick flashes popping faster still – but all Sarah was aware of was the heat of Jareth's body and his purred words echoing in her ear, "In that case, I look forward to finding out how to motivate you, Precious."

To Jareth's surprise, the witch let him spin her around, so that the several sets of photographers at the last section of paparazzi before the entry doors could get shots of the two of them. It had been years since he had bothered to attend a red carpet function, and having a beautiful woman such as Sarah Jane on his arm made it far more compelling. ' _No sense wasting the chance,'_  he mused, then leaned in close to her once more, his eyes dark upon hers, while she looked up at him, her expression every bit the naïve awe one would expect from a dramatic ingénue. ' _Just like…Sarah,'_  he thought, as he fought down the desire to kiss her.

When the final cluster of photographers finished their visual assault with the flashes, Sarah blinked several times to clear her vision from the blinding spots, before she was able to focus on the charity logo on the long signs lining the entry-way. A sudden burst of anger racing through her at the sight. "You have  _ **got**_  to be kidding me, Goblin King!" Ignoring the continued pops and flashes of cameras, Sarah let go of his arm and stalked toward the door, hissing, "The charity you are support is the L.A. County chapter of 'Save the Children'?! Is this some sort of cruel joke?"

With a purring laugh, Jareth slid his arm around her back and pulled her close, unable to stop himself from kissing the luscious pout of the feisty witch. Much to his surprise and the pleasure of the photographers gathered near the entrance, she didn't pull away from him, instead she leaned into his embrace, her hand coming up to cup his cheek.

' _Who knew he'd taste like rose syrup and vanilla,'_  she wondered to herself, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips to part for him, which she found herself doing willingly. A sudden rush of heat coursed through her as his tongue glided along hers, the taste of vanilla and spices threatening to overwhelm her senses. Just as she was preparing to give into her libido's howls to give in to him, Jareth broke the kiss, giving her a wicked grin.

"No joke, darling. If you knew anything of my position, you'd know that I have a sacred duty to  _protect_  children from those that would do them harm," he purred, whisking her through the double-doors and into the building.

As much as Sarah hated to admit it… he was right. Her memories of him from her time in the Labyrinth screamed 'villain', but the truth of the matter was that he was bound by the laws and magic of the Underground to protect those who are wished away from those would do them harm – most often the person who wished them away in the first place.

"Now then, if you are done besmirching my good name, let me remind you that we had an accord, Precious – one that you willingly accepted. Do you  _really_  want to break your word, hmmm?" Jareth murmured quietly as they entered the expansive entry gallery of the theatre, the vaulted ceiling ringing with the sound of voices and muted music from the main ballroom. He felt the witch shiver a bit at his words, and was pleased to know his meaning was made crystal clear to her.

"You're the Goblin King, it's kind of hard  _not_  to paint you as a fairy tale villain when you are, basically, the epitome of one," she protested, her fingers clutching her handbag as if it were a life preserver.

"Well do try, little witch. It will make this evening far more enjoyable for both of us. I really don't want to have to deal with the consequences of a broken magical contract."

Nibbling her lower lip, Sarah nodded, her over-active imagination immediately offering a variety of suggestions as to just what might happen should she break the magical contract she had so foolishly entered into. A moment later she felt a gentle pressure on her lower back, glancing at Jareth, her cheeks flushed hotly at the realization that his gloved fingers where caressing the bare flesh of her back, as he guided her further into the building. All around them were the cream of Hollywood; the rich and the famous with money to spend. Glittering dresses, upswept hairdos, sparkling jewelry intermixed with sleek, designer suits and copious quantities expensive champagne. Swallowing heavily, Sarah felt her heart race as a wave of memory sensation rushed through her. The whole decadent scene was just a mask for debauchery that ran just under the surface - a scene she had witnessed just once before. In the crystal dream.

The hum of voices seemed to rise to a roaring buzz in her head, as she looked frantically around, seeing glimpses of masks and ball gowns swirling through the crowd _. 'It's not real…this isn't the ballroom…it's not real!'_ Around her, the room began to swim and swirl around her. ' _Don't faint….don't faint. Please Gods…don't faint!'_

Feeling Amethyst pause then wobble, Jareth immediately slid his arm further around her back to steady her, only to frown slightly when he glanced at her ashen face. Her violet eyes were wide – too wide. The pupils were dilated and glassy, as she peered around her. He could see her heartbeat fluttering wildly at the base of her throat, the pulse so strong he was sure if he tried, he would be able to hear it as well.

With a move so quick she barely noticed it, Jareth snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to her. "Here, drink this. Gods know you need to relax a bit, you look as edgy as a pixie in a room full of mountain trolls."

Sarah took the glass, absently sipping it as he moved the two of them through the crowd toward some chairs near a small waterfall. It took her that long to register just what he had said. Once he had her seated upon one of the chairs, she looked at him, wide-eyed fear clearing from the violet orbs as she frowned at him. "Why would a pixie be edgy in a room full of mountain trolls?"

"Welcome back, Precious." Chuckling quietly, Jareth stretched out and snatched a canape` from the tray of another waiter, then placed it into her free hand. "Although, I'm not sure you really want the answer to that question."

The vacant haze cleared further from her eyes as she scowled at him, sipping her champagne. "Oh come on now, what could possibly be that bad."

Shrugging Jareth snatched another glass of champagne for himself, casually leaning against the pillar beside her chair as he surveyed the crowd or philanthropists and those hoping to be mistaken as such. "You'll just have to trust me when I say you do  _not_  want full disclosure on this one. Suffice it to say that mountain trolls are a particularly randy bunch and have a fetish for pixies. The full details I'll leave to your imagination, knowing full well that whatever you come up with won't actually be as graphic or horrific as what they do."

Sure enough, Sarah Jane began to splutter and cough, choking on her sip of champagne.

Shaking his head,, Jareth patted her back gently. "I did warn you, witch. You must remember, when it comes to the Underground, things are rarely as they seem. Even matters of fetishes."

"That's…that's…horrible!" she muttered, then fell silent, sipping her champagne and nibbling on the bacon-wrapped shrimp skewer he had handed her.

Jareth leaned more comfortably against the organza gauze wrapped column. Twinkling golden fairy lights hidden within the folds of the silver and ice blue gauze cast a shimmering glow over the crowd of mingling party-goers. He had not planned to attend the fundraiser, but it provided an excellent chance to spend more time with the intriguing witch – time that he viewed as anything but wasted. Glancing down at her, he smiled quietly seeing her creased forehead and the pensive way she was sucking on her lower lip. In that moment he was torn between a desire to nibble the succulent blackberry-colored lip himself, and wondering what it was she was thinking – although given the juicy tidbit he'd just left her with, he was reasonably sure he knew what was on her mind. "Go on then," he chuckled.

Blinking she looked up at him, the half-eaten shrimp pausing mid-flight to her mouth. "Um…say what now?"

"Go on and ask."

"Ask what?" she grumbled and bit into the last half of the shrimp with more viciousness than the already dead and grilled crustacean really required.

The Goblin King sipped his champagne and looked around again, before letting his gaze drop back to hers, pleased by the faint hint of pink in her cheeks. "You want to know about me…and whether I have any 'unusual' fetishes, like those of the mountain trolls." His suspicions were confirmed when she spluttered and the faint wisps of pink turned a more vibrant shade of crimson.

"I..um…no…how did… um…" she stammered, dropping her eyes to look at the champagne in her hand. A moment later she looked back up at him, the frown tugging at her plump purple-red lips distracting him momentarily from her words. "I didn't know mind reading was one of your talents."

A deep rumbling laugh echoed in his chest as Jareth shook his head, then grabbed a bit of bruchetta from a passing tray, before deftly slipping it into her now empty hand. "It isn't. Nor does it have to be given the way you splutter and blush when I'm right. But…you'll only get the answer if you ask the right question. I have a reputation to maintain. I can't make this too easy for you."

Shrugging, the purple-haired witch turned away from him, her eyes idly wandering over the colorful patrons of the event as they milled about, doing their slow social dance of 'who knows who' and 'who do I need to know'. "Pompous Fae bastard…. What makes you think I'd want to know such a thing about you,' she grumbled, then bit into the bruschetta in her hand. Before Jareth could answer, her libido responded, flashing up the rather tasty and blush-inducing image of Jareth, his crop and her own bare bum wiggling with anticipation as he bent her over the front of his own throne. ' _Because you DO want to know what fetishes he has…or more accurately, if the stories about him are true,'_  squealed her libido, with her inner-self nodding sagely in agreement.

Jareth gave a quiet laugh, the sound a soft, purr that seemed to wrap itself around her and tickle her ears, despite the fact that his lips were nowhere near her flesh. "Because you are naturally curious, little witch and you know that my kind have a predilection for sexual pleasures of all kinds. Naturally, after spending the night in my bed, it would make sense for you to wonder just what sorts of fetishes get me… _hot_."

' _Told you so!_ ' grumbled her libido. ' _Now ask him!'_

Studiously watching the glitterati of the Hollywood charity set mixing and mingling the foyer, Sarah pondered whether she really wanted to know just what Jareth's fetishes were. ' _Just because I ask doesn't mean I have to sleep with him,'_  she reasoned. But the fact was, as much as she didn't want to admit it, the idea of Jareth and his fetishes was more than intriguing. Since she was a teen, Jareth and his crop had formed a large part of her own sexual fantasies. So the fact that she had spent the night in his bed, with him in an agonizingly delicious state of undress, was more than enough to have her stomach doing flips at the thought of actually getting to experience Jareth and his sensuality. In short...she wanted him. There was no escaping that fact.

"I...I...need to find a bathroom," she blurted out, as she launched herself to her feet. Without waiting for a response, she threw back the rest of her champagne and thrust the empty glass at him, her cheeks burning from the slightly startled and amused smirk he gave at her outburst. "Um...would you get me another?"

Accepting the glass, Jareth briefly nodded. "As my lady demands. I"ll meet you near the entrance to the main hall when you are finished."

Barely pausing to nod her agreement, Sarah darted off through the crowd, no longer overwhelmed by the crowd surrounding her - her thoughts were overwhelmed with only one thing.

Jareth.


End file.
